One With Magic
by RockIll
Summary: Harry Potter was in hell from the moment he was left on the Dursley's steps. With unusual power, he murders his the Dursleys at age eight and is thrown in a juvenile delinquency institute. With the Malfoys, a muggle and a magical at his side, will he find his place among wizards? No pairings for Harry though there is a bit Harry/Narcissa Malfoy
1. Chapter 1

___**One with Magic**_

_Harry Potter was in hell from the moment he was left on the Dursley's steps. With unusual power, he murders his the Dursleys at age eight and is thrown in a juvenile delinquency institute. With the Malfoys, a muggle and a magical at his side, will he find his place among wizards? No pairings for Harry though there is a bit Harry/Narcissa Malfoy_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, sadly.**_

_**It All Begins**_

* * *

Mrs. Number Three Privet Drive had never seen such a pleasant, quiet, and warm day on Privet Drive in all of her years of living there.

Even the birds wasted no time basking in the rare and sunny, yet not too hot or humid, day. Without a cloud in sight, they soared in circles in the gorgeously blue sky and played 'tag' in the bushes.

The houses lay quiet and still as most of the children were away; some enjoying their day at the park, some gone to the beaches, and some having outings elsewhere with their parents. Therefore, it was serene. _Wonderfully calm, almost peaceful. It's a perfect day for a tea part-._

"_BOY! YOU- HERE-__**NOW**_!" The bellow rattled the windows of Number Four Privet Drive and sent birds flying in fright.

Mrs. Number Three, who had accidentally clipped a beautiful flower that she had been admiring, angrily picked up her fallen hedge-clippers and moved closer to the front of her house. She could see Vernon Dursley dramatically and wildly gesticulating through his large, sitting room window.

_That man!_

This was certainly not the first time that she had heard Vernon Dursley yell at the boy he claimed to be 'a miscreant.' She, like many of the others on Privet Drive, had previously, mistakenly, assumed that he had been disciplining the boy because the child had been continually misbehaving.

_Really, who would scream "BOY" all of the time at their nephew unless the child was such a menace that he did not deserve a name!_

With a casual flick of her hand, as if to get dirt off, she gestured to Mrs. _I Can Do No Wrong Even Though I'm Cheating On My Husband _Number Five Privet Drive. The secret signal was returned with a slight nod and then sent to the other women _working _in their gardens.

It was something that she and Number Five had worked out- _well_, Number Three had worked it all out and Number Five tagged along because she wanted to do everything she could to destroy Petunia Dursley's reputation.

_Their rivalry was probably due to some grammar-school vendetta_ _or other childish and insignificant matter._ Mrs. Number Three truly did not care about either one of them. It was that dear, sweet boy who had been troubling her soul over the past few years.

She had watched him often through her front window with her binoculars. In _various_ hours of the day, she had watched him cleaning, gardening, and manicuring the lawn. While Dursley passed it off as chores to "keep the little delinquent busy," Number Three was not stupid. She had recognized _child __abuse_ for what it was.

_The boy was little more than seven at the time anyhow; he couldn't have been that much of a criminal._

She had been simply overjoyed when she, along with Numbers Five, Six, Two and Eight, the esteemed _Ladies of Privet Drive_, wandered onto the topic at brunch one humid day two summers back.

"_Are you sure?" Number Two demanded._

"_Of course she is, Dorothy! Do you remember Petunia's pathetic attempt at a Yule party last year?"_

_There was a pause as each one of the ladies slipped into a state of reflection, and they set down their teacups in unison._

_Number Two squeaked in shock. "I remember now. He had served the food and drink there! He looked so hungry and small, and she-."_

"_She kept smacking him." Number Six remembered gravely. "I don't remember him 'getting cheeky'."_

"_The boy had barely said a word the whole time!" Number Five growled. "He was five years-old, I believe she said. Funny how that never struck me as odd."_

_Number Three had smiled inwardly at her subtle victory. "Not to mention the clothes he wore."_

"_You mean __**forced**__ to wear." Number Eight said regally. Number Two nodded._

"_Those horrible overalls. I swear I saw her son wearing those same dreadful pieces of clothe- why, it couldn't be but a few weeks ago!" Number Two said in her insignificant, squeaky way._

"_They are so outrageously large on him." Young Number Eight spoke around the food in her mouth. "But then again, he was never large to begin with. Not like Dursley's son. I wonder if Petunia lets her son eat the poor boy's foo-." Bits of the biscuit she had been chewing on found its way onto her lap._

"_He is unhealthily skinny; I wouldn't be surprised if you're right." Number Three said tersely, shaking her gray head. It had been quite clear to the other _Ladies _that she had been shaking her head at Number Eight's barbaric table manners and not at the statement she had just made._

_Number Five leaned forward with her teacup in her hand, the universal gossiping signal that a major secret was soon to be spilled. The other Ladies followed suit by leaning in too, although they were very much alone._

"_I invited the boy in for some lemonade last Saturday. I had accidentally made too much, thinking that my husband would come home early." When she lowered her head to set down her teacup to refill it, the other _Ladies _gave each other knowing looks over her bent head and hid their knowing smirks behind their teacups._

_They all took that to mean that she had made some lemonade for her "Gardener" and that her Eduardo had not been able to miss spending the day with his wife and three children to spare her some adulterous satisfaction._

"_Go on!" Number Eight said, her eyes aglow, hungry for gossip. Number Three rolled her eyes in exasperation. Number Two giggled softly behind her hand._

_Young Number Eight had moved in a month ago or so. She was newly married and expecting a bundle of joy at that time. The _Ladies of Privet Drive _had taken her in under their wing and into their 'private club.' Yet, even after the month of underling training, she had yet to learn the delicate etiquette of gossiping!_

_Number Five continued with a fresh cup of rosemary tea, "Well, I invited him in. I had seen him working so hard in the garden. The poor boy, he looked absolutely famished and dehydrated. I asked him what he had been doing, just to see what he would say." She paused, for an obvious and unnecessary dramatic effect. "He told me-."_

_She leaned in closer, moving her chair closer to the others in the shade on the back patio of Number Six's house, "He had been weeding the yard. Well, I told him that I used to have my son do that too. And the look he gave m-."_

"_Afternoon, ladies!" Petunia Dursley's obnoxiously shrill voice interrupted from the yard over. _ "_Good Afternoon, Petunia." They all said in unison and with sugary-sweet voices. They raised their flowery teacups in her direction. Her eyebrows had furrowed instantly together. She appeared as if she wanted to ask something, but they had already turned away from her and had gone back to talking._

"_Go on, Susan!" Number Two said eagerly to Number Five._

_Mrs. Number Five took another sip of tea. "The look he gave me… almost like he thought I was the devil in women's clothing!"_

_Number Three swiftly kicked Number Six under the table. She had been in the process of opening her mouth and saying something practically vicious. The kick was quickly returned._

_Mrs. Number Five continued, eyeing the two of them with suspicion. "Right, then he held out his hands." She made a face. "They were cut bloody, swollen, and most likely infected! He had been __**forced**__ to do it __**without**__ gloves!"_

_They all reclined back in their chairs with repulsion and outrage._

"_God above!"_

"_My heavens."_

"_That poor boy!"_

"_How old is he again?"_

_They all glanced over into the Dursley's yard, where Petunia was overtly observing them. They all beamed poison-laced smiles at her and lifted their cups to her once more. In the corners of their eyes, they all observed the boy as he carried heavy buckets of water to the front of the house while his cousin whacked him repeatedly on the back with a stick. "Boy, hurry up! Dudley hit him harder!" Vernon encouraged through the kitchen window. Petunia had waved back to them hesitantly, completely unaware of the plan unraveling around her nephew._

The _Ladies_ had then decided that they would each call on 'Precious Harry,' as they so lovingly named him, to come over to their houses when they could, to keep him away from his abusive family. They did it all under the pretense of having Harry work for them. Without any substantial proof of abuse, they could not get child protection involved. And none of them wanted the reputation-wrecking stigma of family breaking attached to them and their households.

Immediately the bait was taken. The Dursleys quickly accepted the proposal for Harry to do jobs for the _Ladies_ when they needed him. Petunia's attempt to use Harry as her invitation into the _Ladies of Privet Drive_, or to get dirty on the _Ladies _as Number Three believed it to be, was fairly obvious. The _Ladies_ even gave Harry small pocket change to keep the rouse up. The money had been continuously taking away by the Dursleys until Harry confessed to having "saved" some of his money in an undisclosed location.

The _Ladies_ knew instantly that the Dursleys were taking the small monies, but they did not say a word, nor did the boy. It kept the Dursleys under their control and where the Ladies wanted them. So long as they gave Harry a little money, and he gave a little to the Dursleys, the Dursleys were not suspicious.

The pocket change was not a problem, what to do with the boy had been a major question. They had absolutely no intention of giving him hard work. _He had enough of that at home_. It had taken some nights of discussion and tea drinking before they found a suitable solution.

Each single Lady was to issue him completely useless jobs. They even competed to see who could come up with a job with the _least_ amount of work. Recently, Number Three had learned that a few days ago Number Two told him to move her welcome-mat precisely two centimeters to the left and then told him to help himself to her well-known Sweets-Cupboard.

Their main objective was getting him away from his family, and Number Three was positive that the boy was onto them. _It's the gleam of understanding in those emerald eyes of his! _It was as if he could read their minds. One day he had even thanked her so profusely that it brought her to tears.

She flipped her hair, as if to get it out of her face, and in the garden one door down, Number Five nodded. Number Three had taken him yesterday. It was Number Five's turn today.

Yesterday, Number Three had gone to the store and bought a big bag of cherry and grape candies. She told him to separate the red candies from the purple candies in the kitchen. When he looked at her in suspicion, she quickly told him that she liked the color purple more than red. She prepared a hearty breakfast and lunch while he 'worked'.

They had also taken it upon themselves to stuff the boy with as much food as possible while keeping him away from his family. It had been painfully obvious that he was not getting enough to eat from the Dursleys. That had quickly become another competition amongst the _Ladies_, who could fatten him up the most.

Number Three was certain that Number Six had been giving him some sort of nutritional supplement over the past year, and Number Three was not going to take it lying down. She made _banquets_ for Harry _and_ had him exercising, _but not too much_ _of course_.

She and Number Six had been rivals even when the _Ladies of Privet Drive_ had just been a Wednesday brunch, over thirty years ago. They went from competing over 'Best Garden', 'Best Wedding', 'Best Husband', and 'Best Funeral' for said husbands, down the list to 'Best Weathervane' and 'Best Garden Gnomes.'

_Yet, each time Harry leaves her house, he seems stronger and healthier! She _must_ be slipping him something! It's unnatural! It's cheating; plain and simple!_

Yesterday, after Harry had finished sorting the candies, Number Three had _suddenly_ remembered that she could not eat the candy. "These old teeth, I almost forgot!" She complained and told him to take it all home. The boy had almost cried of shock and of joy. Then he shocked her by hugging her tightly around the waist, nearly lifting her square off the ground. His strength was amazing nowadays.

She smiled to herself. She would bet the very clothes on her back that Numbers Six or Two had not received such a hug from Harry.

He also shocked her with the news that tomorrow, therefore today, would be his birthday and that the candy was a great present. Number Three quickly relayed that information on to the other Ladies, and they immediately began making plans for a surprise, but secret birthday celebration. _The weather is perfect for it._

With unhurried, yet springy and airy steps, Number Five had bounced out of her yard. _She's acting as though her soaps are going to run the whole day!_

Number Five was the only member who actually gave him _work_. She actually tried to make him sweat. He seemed to somehow enjoy going to her house and doing the _many_ difficult chores that Number Five gave him. Number Three had once seen the nine year-old _hanging upside down_ from Number Five's _roof_ cleaning the high windows! And of course was Number Five watching him from the garden below with a martini in one hand, a gossip magazine in the other, and that queer grin on her face, the one she always carried when Harry was around.

It could almost be described as _perverted_, the interest Number Five had in Harry. Number Three ranked it somewhere between motherly love of a son and the lust for a beau.

Number Three remembered the time she had _invited_ herself over while Harry was there. She wanted to return the backing dish she had _borrowed_. In the sitting room, she was surprised to find Number Five lying on a small couch, draped in only a _towel_ around her lower regions and having the boy rub her back. She had barely muffled the gasp that nearly escaped her lips behind her hands and slipped back out the door. She truly hoped it had never gone _further _between the two.

Number Five was also the first _Lady_ to volunteer to host the birthday party today in her backyard. She was to put Harry to work. At about three in the afternoon, one by one, the other ladies would arrive, and they would stay until after dinnertime. Number Five had already called Petunia to request Harry a bit longer as she had "more work for the boy."

Number Three turned and wiped her lightly silvered brow with her left hand. Numbers Two, Six, and Eight, who all lived on the opposite side of the street, nodded at the signal and halted with their _yard work._

She turned back to the Dursley's residence. They usually observed how the Dursleys reacted to each one of them as they picked Harry up. A lingering glance from Petunia did not always mean that the person's skirt is too skimpy, as it usually was the case with Number Five, such a look could also mean that the _Lady_ had taken Harry too often or even picked him up too often. The _Ladies_ had to be vigilant of those and similar, subtle signs. The tiniest of slip-ups could ruin their whole act, _and their time with the poor little Harry_.

She subconsciously compared her flowerbeds with Petunia Dursley's.

_The only reason why they are immaculate is because Harry takes excellent care of them!_

Then she heard it. It was the most terrible sound that she had ever heard, and hoped to never hear again. It was a sound that had never been heard in _their _neighborhood.

Number Five paused. The _Ladies_ all looked at one another. In such an esteemed neighborhood such a sound should never be heard, but it was, and they knew what it was. It was the scream of a child being viciously harmed.

And then it stopped. It was as if someone had turned a switch off. With agility she had not managed in years, Number Three hopped over her small bushes and, with her hedge-clippers still in her hands, ran clear out of her garden through the front of her house and then across the street to the Dursleys' front yard.

Number Five had stopped directly in front of the Dursley's living room window, frozen, pale, and shaking. _Does she have no tact whatsoever_? _There are bushes to hide in_!

The thought disappeared as quickly as it came. Number Three rushed forward automatically, the child's screams had returned. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

What she saw through the large window stopped her too. The scene was almost too unbearable for her to see, but she had to. It was her duty to see all and report most of what she had seen. The great brute Vernon was roughly holding down their 'Precious Harry'. The poor boy was thrashing around in pain, with every _SMACK _that landed on his tender flesh from his uncle's hands.

"YOU WERE STEALING FROM DUDLEY!" _SMACK._

The child looked frightened to death. "I wasn-." _SMACK. SLAP._

Vernon angrily shook a bag of red and purple treats in front of him. "WHAT DO YOU CALL THIS!" He simultaneously pulled off his belt.

Harry's eyes in horror went wide when he saw the belt. That look would be forever engraved in their minds. It was a look of absolute terror. "I got them from Mrs. Nap-." Number Three's blood chilled in her veins as her name was almost mentioned. Number Six shifted beside her. She prayed that Number Six had not heard the slip as well.

Vernon was completely purple with rage. He shook violently. The belt went flying expertly over any skin that possibly could be reached. _I wonder how many times that boy has seen that belt._

"NO ONE '**BELT**' WOULD GIVE YOU '**BELT**' CANDY '**BELT**' YOU DISGUSTING, '**BELT**' NO GOOD, '**BELT**' LYING, '**BELT**', _FREAK!_"

He finished by viciously attacking the boy with his bare fists: choking and spitting on him. Harry lay almost motionless on the couch, most of his bruises bleeding. He did not even moan.

Number Five was pale with fright and indignation. She turned to the women gathered behind her, shaking as though she had seen a vision of herself being beaten. The look in her eyes portrayed the message that she could not speak, as the scene had rendered her speechless.

_Call the police!_

Each woman turned and ran to her respectable house, and there were more women in the front of the house than the _Ladies_. The scene had attracted the whole neighborhood. Everyone was mortified.

Number Three even saw a few women from Magnolia Lane watching the scene. _The bloody vultures, always swooping around trying to get gossip material from Privet Drive!_

She was once again betraying her age, this time by how fast she was running across the street to her house.

Out of the corner of her eye, Number Three saw Petunia Dursley in her window. Dursley's eyes widened in shock as the women dispersed from her yard. She quickly shut the curtains.

_Oh no you don't, Petunia, we've got you! And for George's sake, buy curtains that match the theme of the front of your house! Those purple monsters are embarrassing the entire neighborhood!_

She arrived in her kitchen as soon as she could get her dirty shoes off her feet; the floor was a hassle to clean otherwise. She got on the phone immediately. She called the police and told them _everything_ she had seen, adding her own feelings and the reactions of the other _Ladies_ whenever she could.

"…I believe half of the women on the block went into _shock! Th-"_

"Ma'am, we've a-."

There came loud bangs from across the street.

"_Please hurry,_ I hear loud noises! I think they are doing more harm to the poor boy!"

The police arrived at the house minutes after the call, sirens blaring and colors flashing. Number Three was standing in front of her house as they arrived. _Five cars of them_!

_Honestly now! Are all of these cars needed! Some poor woman could be getting mugged somewhere in a dark alley, and there won't be a bobby in sight!_

From the speed of their arrival, she guessed that one of the quicker ladies had called them before she had. The very thought made her blood boil.

She and the rest of the women reassembled in the street in front of the house. The _Ladies of Privet Drive_ stood at their rightful place in the front, where they could observe everything.

After a few moments of standing there, they all knew something was wrong. It was absolutely, dead quiet in the house. There was no screaming Harry, shrieking Petunia and no yelling Vernon.

One brave bobby suddenly walked up the pavement, up the stairs and, finding the door unlocked like most of the houses on the block were, opened the door silently and rushed inside.

A moment or two went by while he was inside the house. Suddenly he came running out. The women, who all were standing behind a line of obstacle police, were startled as the man came out panting and wheezing.

He was completely green in the face. "It's a _slaughterhouse_ in there!" Number Three was confused. As she looked at the other _Ladies_, they seemed confused as well. The _Ladies of Privet Drive_ had just finished telling the other women of their philanthropy and of their 'Precious' Harry's previous abuse.

After he caught his breath, the stricken bobby finished. "Everyone- the whole famil-." He suddenly vomited on the lawn in front of the house. The _Ladies_ turned their noses up in disgust.

_Honesty! Did he have to do that in front of us! What respectable man would do such a thing before a woman, not to mention a whole street of them!_

Three other officers looked at one another. 

* * *

Two, the shortest _Lady_, shot forward while the police were distracted with their sick comrade. When she got into the house, the metallic scent of blood assaulted her nose with the strength of lightening.

Her bad eyes prevented her from seeing the room without proper lighting. She hurriedly opened the curtains and turned around...

* * *

When the other _Ladies_ heard her piercing scream, they broke through the feeble police obstacle and made their way forward. While standing around the front window, they all saw what could only be described later as the gut-wrenching preview to a horror massacre movie.

It was red. Everything had a red coating. Blood covered most of the furniture and seemed to be part of the very decor of the room. It trickled down from the walls and pooled on the floor. There was even a bit on the ceiling, dripping down to the floor.

_Even on those dreadful curtains!_

The first body that they spotted and pointed out to one another with mouths behind hands was Petunia's. She lay strewn in front of the fireplace. One _Lady_ pointed out that her head lay dismembered from her body, next to the couch. She had obviously been stabbed multiple times, but it was hard to say what killed her, the beheading or the impalement.

Dudley Dursley's large body was spotted next. He had been thrown head first into the television set. He had obviously died of disembowelment as his insides were lying on the floor in a puddle of dark blood beneath him. In his hand was the bag of red and blue sweets; Number Three looked quickly away.

The only person that was not spotted immediately was Vernon Dursley. It was later reported that his body had been all over the room. He had been brutally shot in the stomach and hacked away into pieces.

It was also later discovered that Harry Potter, covered from head to foot in blood _and other repulsive things_, had been sitting behind the couch, bruised, with a handgun and a kitchen knife covered in blood in his hands. The gun was unregistered and the knife did not belong to the set Petunia kept in the kitchen. Where the little boy found the weapons remained a mystery.

The first murder in the neighborhood was a brutal one by all means.

The paramedics had been called in once they found a person alive, or at least fully intact. They rolled him out on a stretcher. He was still coated in bruises and welts from the earlier episode. Number Six said to herself what most of the women were wondering, "How did he do all of this in less than six minutes _and_ after he was nearly beaten to death? And on his very birthday as well!"

"I wonder who will buy the house now that they're gone," Number Three wondered aloud as they drifted back to her porch after they had once again recounted everything that they had seen to _every_ other person on the block, with commentary. The retelling of the tale had taken up most of the afternoon.

"_I _wonder if they will be able to sell the house," Number Five said, preparing the tea.

"_**I**_ _wonder_ who gave the boy the candies that started this mess!" Number Six said pointedly at Number Three.

No one had noticed the old, long and silver bearded man wearing a pointy hat, midnight blue robes and twinkling stars on them observing the scene with sad tears in his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

_**One with Magic**_

_Harry Potter was in hell from the moment he was left on the Dursley's steps. With unusual power, he murders his the Dursleys at age eight and is thrown in a juvenile delinquency institute. With the Malfoys, a muggle and a magical at his side, will he find his place among wizards? No pairings for Harry though there is a bit Harry/Narcissa Malfoy_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, sadly.**_

_**The Sentence**_

"Name." The gruff voice said.

"Harry Potter."

"Date of Birth."

Harry took that to mean his birthday, which was a few days ago. "July 31."

The man waited, as if Harry was supposed to say something else. Harry looked to a man who had been following him ever since he had woken in the hospital. He actually kind of liked the man who dressed in fancy clothes and always had a strong smell of perfume. But he knew that the man was not genuinely interested in him, it seemed to be his job to follow Harry around.

"How _old_ are you, Harry?" Another reason why he liked the man, he called Harry by his name.

He still found the question a bit odd, but he answered nonetheless. "I turned nine a few days ago."

The man nodded and turned to the surly looking man standing by the door of the impressively white room. "So, 1980…"

"Place of residence." Harry looked to the guy he liked again. Today, he wore a fancy blue suit and smelled like the car freshener that Uncle Vernon used to buy. He called himself an "aturny".

"He _means-Euh_! A residence is where you live, Harry." He said, obviously agitated. Harry knew it was not directed at him, because the 'aturny' turned to the man with the folder and papers. "Honestly Gram, like the kid knows what a 'residence' is!"

The gruff man, who reminded Harry vaguely of a skinnier version of Uncle Vernon, shrugged his broad shoulders slightly and gave Harry a hard look. Harry had seen that look many times.

When he woke up at the hospital, several of the nurses and doctors gave him that very look. _I wonder what it means._

"Well, now you know what a residence is!" It seemed like a threat for some odd reason. Harry bristled like an angry cat.

"Yes, I do." The words were spoken in a deep tone not normally associated with a nine-year-old. Both men looked at him in surprise, and another, more interesting, emotion. Harry knew it well: fear.

The snippy man looked Harry over deeply. "Are you sure that that psycho test of yours is rig-."

"Just finish the questions!" Harry smiled softly at the gruff man who was taken aback by the tone of the 'aturny'.

He carried on his questioning with a monotonous voice that did not belie the anger Harry could see on his face. The 'aturny' sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"School."

"Whinging Elementary."

"Parents," asked the man, almost provokingly. The man in the fancy suit looked at Harry nervously, almost as if expecting him to blow up.

Harry did not see any reason why he should. They died before he could get a chance to know them. He would have liked to know them, but that was impossible. _Besides, the Dursleys said they died, drunk, in a car crash, and were the worst type of people_. That, to Harry, naturally meant that his parents died in a courageous act and that they were amazing individuals.

"Dead." Harry said as if he had been asked any ordinary question. The gruff man flipped to a different paper almost in disappointment.

"Hmm, I'm going to need the Guardianship forms then… Guardians'-."

"None." Both men looked to him. A smile of tugged at his lips at the look of disbelief on the attorney's face.

"Don't interrupt me, _boy_!" The smile on the Harry's face disappeared.

The only thing that went through his mind then was the sound of Uncle Vernon's voice over the years. It screamed 'boy' again and again. Harry's heart began to beat a bit faster. The only of his uncle's voice was slowly replaced by the sound of a voice he had only heard once before. It was his own, though colder, without feeling, and not entirely under his control.

"My name is not 'boy'."

"Harry, refrain from tal-." The fancy dressed man said harshly.

"No, let **_the boy _**go on." The crotchety man said approaching the table at which Harry and the attorney man sat.

He approached them slowly until he was face-to-face with Harry. Harry trembled a bit. A bolt of fear and something else flew through him. It was something he had felt before. It grew hot and seemed to flow through his very veins. Horrible thoughts pulsed through his head and _every_ bad thing that he ever experienced flashed before him.

He grew unbelievably angry. Before the rage completely took over his mind, he remembered feeling that exact way when Uncle Vernon had finished beating him.

The man suddenly spun his chair around, and he moved his hand quickly, hitting Harry on the back of the head, making his head fly sideways into the table. Harry did not feel the pain, but he felt the _feeling_ flowing through him as he imagined lava would from a volcano.

Harry's attorney yelled something at the man. He stood and moved as if to help Harry, but Harry darted forward like a panther in attack.

With lightening speed and snake-like precision, he wrapped his handcuffed hands around the gruff man's neck, constricting his throat. The chain connecting his hands together was long enough to wrap around the man's neck once, and allow Harry to grasp his own hands and lock the man in.

The man fought tremendously. He hit Harry ferociously; the fancy-dressed man was shouting things at both of them, distressed but also helpless. Harry threw himself against the table and managed to knock the gruff man, now red in the face, to the ground. He found himself on the man's stomach. Harry felt himself smiling, yet he was not causing himself to smile. The man's eyes bulged fearfully, and his hands flailed about him as if they had been stunned useless.

Harry knew he was not in control of himself. It was not a feeling that he enjoyed at all. He did not really want to hurt or kill the man, but he couldn't stop. He had truly hated it the first time that he experienced it. The day that his relatives all died; _the day that I killed them_

His grip on the man's neck tightened as Harry thoughts drifted to Uncle Vernon. The man beneath him was turning purple and his eyes were turning red.

Harry laughed softly.

The situation really was not in the slightest bit funny. Yet his laughter steadily increased until it was a non-stop, full laugh.

Harry realized that the color of the man's face had matched the colors of the candy that Uncle Vernon accused him of stealing from Dudley. This did make the situation slightly funny.

Suddenly, he heard many loud voices around him, shouting and yelling. He felt someone try to tear him off of the man, that made the situation worse and the chains tightened. Hands were on him everywhere, grabbing and pulling. Harry could not pull himself away. _Do I even want to? He's funny looking when he's purple and gasping. He deserved this._

Suddenly, a hand struck him hard in the face. Harry felt the impact and the person's ring cutting deeply into his skin. He did not feel the pain that he expected, and did not release his hold.

"_We're gonna have to_-."

There was an odd pause. Even Harry paused in his insane, uncontrolled laughter. Something was placed up to his mouth. It had an oddly sweet smell. The world was suddenly and rapidly spinning before his eyes.

There was an odd pull from behind his eyes. He saw only darkness. He felt suddenly calm; the anger left…

Everything bounced. The up and down movements were enough to make Harry sick. He gently opened his eyes. Someone was carrying him roughly. His first instinct was to move, but years with the Dursleys had taught him to be cautious. He had mastered skill of pretending. He stayed in his limp state, strewn over the person's shoulder.

"-_had_ to cut the damned cuffs just to get him to release the idiot." He knew that voice to be the fancy-dressed man, his attorney.

The man holding Harry chuckled slightly. "And how old is the boy?"

He was beginning to feel the pain from the strike to his face. He bit his tongue to keep from moaning

Harry felt the hot feeling suddenly twitch to life. He mentally begged that it did not come back..

Slowly, his face numbed. It felt as if something cold and soothing was placed upon it. The pain slowly ebbed away to a dull ache. Harry gave a small sigh.

"Nine. _Nine._" The attorney repeated as if he couldn't believe his own words.

"**_What_**!" The man carrying Harry almost dropped him. "**_Bloody Mary's knickers_**!"

"I know. I couldn't believe it either." Harry could tell by the man's tone of voice that he had rubbed his eyes.

He had been doing that ever since he met Harry in the hospital. Harry found it a bit funny. _Especially when I was talking to the doctor who called himself a mind doctor! They both kept making funny faces when as Harry detailed his living situation at the Dursleys._

The two descended into a brief, thick silence. Harry took the time to have a closer look at his surroundings.

As they proceeded, though it was slightly bouncy, Harry was able to see bars. He saw tons of them. There were things moving behind the bars, like animals at the zoo. Though he had never been to one, he had seen them on the telly.

He squinted, his glasses had been left at his relatives' house, but he could see slightly blurred outlines. There was another pulse within him. There was the feeling of something warm pulsating, drifting across his eyes. The image slowly cleared and soon he was no longer squinting. He was able to suddenly see as if he had a new pair of spectacles on.

But the thought of the miracle was short-lived as he noticed what, or better yet who, were behind the bars.

_They're people!_

He knew where he was, and in the back of his mind, it seemed understandable. He killed; he was going to jail just like Uncle Vernon always threatened would occur to him _when_ he killed Harry.

Harry laughed softly at the turn of events, and nearly gave up his act.

"I swear! He's mental, this one!" said the man carrying him.

"He's been through a lot. The reports from some of the neighbors paint a long history of child abuse. It's not proven yet, though he pretty much affirmed everything that was said. He-."

"He murdered his family in cold blood! He _tried_ to murder McGraw, and nearly did so, **_while laughing_**!" He shook Harry a bit roughly when he emphasized this point.

The man Harry liked gave a sigh. "True. But both times he was _provoked_. I think he's only a small bloke who grew up too quickly and was pushed too far. Each one of the neighbors said that with their own eyes, they watched as his uncle beating him severely just before the family was murdered. Evidence collected from the house shows that he was neglected, and possibly abused in more ways than one." He said the last part in a mysterious way that Harry didn't quite grasp.

"_No_! Well, **blimey**! You can't possibly mean that they sexu-"

"It's not _impossible_. The evidence is all being processed, accounts from neighbors as well as Harry's account on the matter... This is the case of the decade! It's bigger than the magistrate. I've heard a rumor that the _Royal_ office wants a report of every second of his life from the second he walked into this world and a full-report of everything happening now.

They descended back into silence. From all sides, the inmates shouted out to the three as they passed. They yelled horrible things, and a lot of thing that Harry did not understand but was sure that they were not good.

Harry was wide-eyed as he stared around him. Some of the inhabitants of the cells hissed at him. Most were men, a few were women, but the women all had empty cells around them on both sides, unless it was the cell of another woman. Harry wondered briefly why the women were isolated from the men.

Harry was stretched over the man's shoulders and was able to see everything that they passed without drawing attention to himself. But it was beginning to make his stomach hurt.

A man made a slashing motion across his neck and then pointed to Harry. He made another motion with his fingers that Harry did not understand, but he was sure it was not good. Harry merely looked at him.

"What do you think they are going to do with him?" The man shook himself and switched Harry over to his other shoulder with a grunt. Harry resisted the urge to groan. He had to pee and hadn't eaten yet.

"Even _I_ am not sure." Harry heard the rustle of papers. "Like I said, this is _the_ case of the decade. Anything is possible." He lowered his voice suddenly. "I do believe he will be going to Sirkins, afterwards he could possibly be let free if the abuse is proven."

"And what about McGraw? It's a severe offense to attack a public official. And it can be proven that he attacked McGraw, so don't try to plead that he didn't!" He gave a laugh. "You attorneys will try and pull anything!"

"There were cameras in the room! I almost forgot them. Perhaps, he would have to spend some time here as at Masons as well. It is almost impossible to follow the books on this case."

The inmates were louder to the point that the man carrying Harry had to shout. "_But Sirkins is definitely in his future?_"

A chill almost instantly went down Harry's spine. He subconsciously stiffened as the inmates, notably all of them being men, went silent and still.

It was purely unnatural. Harry wondered what this 'Sirkins' was. It must have been something utterly terrible to cause _criminals_ to become silenced with fear.

"Most likely," said Harry's attorney, "but this is a _triple homicide_, with the assault of a public official! He will have to serve _some_ jail time here. But then again, his age..."

Harry stopped listening. He did not understand the words, but he was sure that their meanings could not be good for him.

He knew that he had done a bad thing, the things he did to his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and his cousin. But for some reason, he could not feel sorry that he had done it. He knew he should, but he could not. Just like the mind doctor had told him, _"It is not something anyone should do. Murdering. And feeling indifferent about it is almost twice as bad as the deed itself."_

But what about all of the things they did to him. What about all of the nights he had cried himself to sleep, wishing that the pain from the beatings would be gone in the morning. What about all of the times he was hungry. What about all of the times he was worked until he bled or something broke, and then was punished for not working enough. _No one ever said anything about that._

Tears of anger came to his eyes, and his hands balled up into fists. He felt the pulse again. He grew hot with anger. Maybe he had wanted them to suffer and die. Maybe he only regretted that he had not made them scream any longer than they had.

"True. However, I think the judge will shoot for him having to do both." His attorney said sharply.

"Both, why on earth would he do that?" He gave Harry another shake. "Off with his head, I say!" He gave another laugh.

"_That_ is simply out of the question." Harry's attorney sounded angry. "The true issue here is will the judge be able to convict the boy properly with the public-awareness campaign going on." Harry heard the rustle of papers again. "After those all of those illegal trials and the many allegations floating in the papers, I don't think the Court wants more unwanted press and publicity on its doorstep."

Harry flew the man carrying him nod. "If anything, they will try to keep this out of the public's knowledge. Either way that they deal with this case, the public will find something wrong."

"And then they will be facing more charges of foul-play and secretive action."

"It's a terrible time for a case like this."

"Damn right! But I hate to think what would have happened if Harry had held the anger inside any longer." His attorney said. Harry had given up attempting to understand everything that was being said. His name being said momentarily grabbed his attention.

"Yeah, his family is one thing, but a classroom full of innocent children would be a catastrophe." The man carrying him said.

"It could have been anywhere, not just in school, and anyone could have been killed. It makes me think. I wonder if the world is a better place without the likes of his relatives."

They descended into a tensed silence.

"I don't know where I stand, on the kid's issue, but I know that he won't survive a day in _here_." The man carrying him said switching the subject as the inmates began to chatter, cry, and hiss at them. They all pointed at Harry as if he were on display.

"It's not him I'd be worried about!" His attorney said. "I hope that they don't anger him, wherever they put him. No, it's definitely not him that I'm worried about."

Harry ended his unconscious act after a few more minutes or so. The aches he received from being tossed over someone's shoulder were becoming unbearable. The man who had carried him now watched his every step of the way.

They walked him to a blandly painted room. His attorney waited outside and the officers gave him some clothes to wear. Everything was a pale blue, and was laughably large on him. They gave him a silver band too. They laughed and made many jokes about him and his clothes. Harry wanted to cry as they paraded him around like a clown from the town's fair. He was angry, but he kept the 'pulse' from coming. He did not want to get in any more trouble.

The clothes were coarse and woolen, but Harry's skin was only slightly irritated and stopped itching after an hour or two. He had been in worse, and bigger, clothing. His skin had calloused itself to such items. The band was another story. It was definitely odd. It vibrated for a few minutes, and then it went still, and then later it would start up again. Harry did not dare to ask the officers if the vibrations were normal.

After he had finished, after they were finished with their fun, he was handcuffed tightly again. They took him to what vaguely reminded him of the school's cafeteria and forced him to eat some food. It was the first time that he had eaten it. He was sure that it was anything but good for him, but it was still better than what the Dursleys gave him.

_Oh, I miss Mrs. Napleton's cooking. It was the best!_

When he was done eating, when the man told him that he was done, he was taken to another room of a pale-wood color. There were pews that reminded Harry of church, but the seats in the front, to which Harry was being lead, were definitely not from a church.

The back of a single chair rose from behind a tall, elevated platform. A level or two down from there, slightly off to the side was a desk sat with a typewriter on top of it. Mountains of paper stood beside the desk in neat stacks, almost as tall as Harry.

On the main floor stood a long, wooden table, separating from the pews by a small fence-like thing, directly to the opposite side of the desk, but nearly right in front of the platform.

He remembered seeing this room on television once before, or one similar to this. A man had murdered someone in their sleep, and they took him into a room like this to tell him how long he would be staying in prison. The man cried when the person in the robes told him he had to stay in prison forever.

_Would I have to stay there for the rest of my life too? What about school, and my notes? Do they have school in prison?_

He had just sat down when the guy who carried him, forced him to stand back up for fun. His name was Marner. He was a young, tall, fit man with light brown hair cut short. He was 'fresh out of kindergarten' as the officers said. Harry was not sure what to make of that statement or the man. He gave Harry an odd look every time he looked him in the eyes. It was a look that a predator gave while hunting on those silly cartoons that Dudley used to watch.

_The ones he was watching when I sent him through the television_! An odd, cold, uncontrolled laugh burst from his lips. He felt the 'pulse'. It wasn't burning, nor was it soothing. It just seemed to hover in his chest, a steady pulsing within him. Harry let it be as it did not seem dangerous. He shook his leg as the silver band began to vibrate again.

He began to notice people entering the room from a door on the side. Harry could not describe the cold faces that they regarded him with. A few of them avoided looking at him as if he could give them a plague.

A man in robes sailed into the room with a few folders in his hands through a door in the front of the room Harry had not noticed. Everyone stood up when he entered. Harry was pulled once again out of his seat by Marner.

The man, who had entered, was truly an old man, with great agility for the amount of gray in his hair. He wore deep black robes that seemed to swirl around him like a black cloud of knowledge. _The judge_. He sat at the top of the elevated platform.

Harry watched him in awe.

When the judge sat, everyone else sat. Harry was pushed into his seat by Marner. The pulse burned with life. Harry found himself attempting to bite the hand of the man, but only succeeded in nipping a finger. He glared at Harry menacingly.

"You'll pay for that one." A smile stretched across Harry's face as Marner snarled.

"We'll see who pays…" Harry said darkly. Those close enough to observe the scene gasped.

The judge took no notice of the scene. Harry was not even sure if he'd noticed Harry at all.

He seemed so wise. A woman sitting to Harry's left spoke excitedly to the man next to her.

"If there was ever an accurate judge, it is Judge Omnis. He's convicted men when the witnesses lied and the evidence proved them to be guilty years later! He is absolutely perfect for this case."

It was pin-drop silent as the man spoke. His voice was powerful, yet somehow bored. "I have reviewed the case from the murder three days ago in which the defendant, nine-year…" Harry tuned out the man's droning voice.

_Three days ago_! He looked at his hands. The blood had stained the skin underneath his fingernails. He flexed his fingers. He remembered it all as if it had been that very morning: the blood, the screaming, the pleas, and more importantly _the pleasure of revenge_. It had been almost as if magic was flowing in the air.

The horrible monotonous voice of the judge washed over him once more. "…report which states no mental defects-."

An angry voice exploded from the back of the room. "NO MENTAL DEFECTS! HE'S COMPLETELY MAD IN THE HEAD! GIVE HIM THE CHAIR, THE GUILLOTINE. DO THE JOB YOU ARE BEING PAID TO DO, YOU-."

Harry saw a violent flash in the judge's eyes. "**_REMOVE HER_!**" His voice was piercing, it vibrated through the hall menacingly, and Harry winced subconsciously. He never wanted to get on that man's bad side. _Perhaps he has a pulse too._

He watched as several men in uniform went to restrain Aunt Marge who was sitting in the back row. "GET OFF OF ME! UNHAND ME YOU _IMBECILES_!" They could barely get their hand around her enormous arms.

Harry leaned over Marner to his attorney. "Tell them to go after her legs. She has had surgery on them, and has issues with them. Otherwise they will be wasting their time and health. She's too strong for them." He returned to his original position and began playing with the handcuffs to distract himself from the looks everyone were giving him, those who had heard.

There was so much going on. He had not felt so confused since the time he had gone to the wrong class and sat through a chemistry lesson for the sixth year students.

He believed that he should have told the mind doctor about that _pulse_. But for some reason, he had kept coming up with reasons why he should not have.

He returned to the scene that was taking place behind him as his instructions were surprisingly being carried out swiftly without his attorney even saying a word. Despite Marge's screaming, Harry's low voice had managed to reach some within the room.

She was in complete hysterics. "I'LL KILL HIM MYSELF! THEY TOOK CARE OF HIM! THEY SHOULD HAVE TOSSED HIS ARSE INTO THE RIVER LIKE I SUGGESTED."

Harry saw his attorney's eyes light up, and he gestured rapidly to a woman at the desk with the typewriter. She nodded slowly and began typing. The judge and everyone else looked at Aunt Marge as though they had misheard her.

Harry was once again confused. He did not understand what the big deal was about what she said. _She always says those things!_ Suddenly, a light went off in his head.

It was then that Harry truly and voluntarily broke any ties he had to his childhood innocence and ignorance. He began to see how the world worked. He knew how to help himself.

In a low, but carrying, voice, and with the pulse's tempo in his ear, he spoke to the struggling woman directly.

"I'm sure that your dogs will miss me, after all I was their favorite chew-toy." The pulse pushed a cold laugh out of him. "Especially Ripper, good name for him too! I don't know how many times he has sent me running up trees." His voice no longer surprised him, but it still scared him a bit.

"HA. IF ONLY THEY WERE IN THIS ROOM, BOY! THEY'D BE PICKING THE MEAT OFF OF YOUR **_BONES_**!" She struggled again, but managed to break free from the men this time. "THE COURT WON'T ALWAYS PROTECT YOU!"

The court was nearly silent. Not a hair stirred as everyone focused on Harry's aunt.

She spoke in a voice full of barely suppressed rage. "I told them that forcing you to do chores was not good enough! I told them that a regular thrashing by hand every week was not good enough, that you needed one daily and with a good leather _belt_! I told them that withholding food from you wasn't enough!_ You had to be broken_! I told them to lock your arse in that dog cage of theirs in the shed; you did not deserve that cupboard under the stairs."

"Vernon was always going on about how freakish you were. After he tried to lose you in the mall when you were five and you _magically_ found your way back on their doorstep," the typing lady gasped, "I told him to let you _rot in the garage_. But no, that Petunia was always going on about _those people. _'Oh Vernon, don't do it, _those people- those people_'. The stupid girl! She just wanted you in the house for the money that she receivedfor taking care of you from _those people_. I-."

She suddenly stopped. The only sound that was heard was the rapid typing of the woman behind the desk. The whole courtroom was staring at Marge agape. Harry was still confused. _Who were the people paying Aunt Petunia to take care of me_?

"_Dog cage_?" Marner said to himself.

Harry heard the once rapid typing of the woman at the desk slow to a stop.

Harry felt the pulse increase and his mouth opened.

"Now…" He said slowly, looking at the judge. "You see what I went through." The words had an immediate effect.

The judge paid him a brief, almost searching glance, and made a note on some papers on his desk. Harry blinked; he had felt a tingle in the back of his mind, as if the man had been _in_ it.

_Impossible._

"Remove her." The judge repeated. "Take her to a holding cell. Crimes beyond the ones acknowledged," he nodded to Harry, "have been committed here. I shall get to the bottom of this case." He gestured questioning to the woman who had been typing furiously over the pass few moments.

"Yes sir, all was taking down!" The woman in a lime green skirt said, looking almost insulted by the question. She typed again, as if noting her own words.

"Good." He turned back to everyone, gathering his papers. "This hearing has been postponed for 14 days." A murmur went through the crowd. Cameras that Harry had not know were there began flashing brilliantly. The judge stood up and everyone else began to as well.

"Your Honor," Harry's attorney stood up and caused a lull in the room, "You have not decided where Harry will be residing."

The judge sat back down slowly, Harry watched restraining himself from laughing at the fact that everyone else, besides himself and his attorney, sat back down too. _Like puppets_.

"I _had_ decided, and I was going to discuss this matter away from the press and public." He said honestly to the now abashed man, who was still standing and rapidly turning red.

He looked Harry in the eye and gestured for him to stand. Harry did so unaided this time. The people with pens and paper in their hands, at the back of the room, leaned forward eagerly. The woman at the typewriter had her fingers at the ready.

"Because of the severity and abnormity of the case, all options must be taken into account. I have spoken with several childcare agencies and professionals. I have come to the conclusion that the defendant shall spend seven days, under necessary protection, in Masons Correctional Facility." A great wave of chattering went through the crowd. People were talking in astonished, fascinated voices.

Marner began pulling Harry down, but Harry fought to stay up. Harry was not stupid, he could count and there were seven more days in the holding process till the next hearing.

"As for the other seven days," the judge continued, "he shall be housed in Sirkins Juvenile Delinquency Facility until a further sentence is reached." The man banged a hammer like thing and got up. Everyone stood again and he left after he delivered the sentence

The room exploded in voices. A woman behind Harry said in a low whisper. "They're going to tear that little boy to pieces."

That comment immediately made him think about Uncle Vernon. He felt himself laughing. Several people in the room, especially members of the press, were taken aback by his response to, what they believed was to, the sentence.


	3. Chapter 3

_**One with Magic**_

_Harry Potter was in hell from the moment he was left on the Dursley's steps. With unusual power, he murders his the Dursleys at age eight and is thrown in a juvenile delinquency institute. With the Malfoys, a muggle and a magical at his side, will he find his place among wizards? No pairings for Harry though there is a bit Harry/Narcissa Malfoy_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, sadly.**_

_**All Alone**_

The hall was icy cold. It was either that or he was unbelievably cold inside. It did not matter which; he still shivered.

As soon as he left the courtroom, his stupid stomach made him realize what was really going on around him. It cramped so badly that he could barely walk. The sound of the judge's gavel resonated in his mind and sent jolts to his bones. _I'm going to jail for the rest of my life_.

The thoughts that began running through his mind almost made him cry. He would never see the outside of a prison again. _Killers stay in jail for the rest of their lives._ He stopped walking for a moment as they passed through the barricade of reporters that had followed him from the courtroom._ I'm a killer._

"Kid, look this way!" Harry subconsciously obliged to the man who had the woman-like voice.

Marner began getting aggressive with the reporters as they close in thicker on us, like ravage man-eaters. He pushed one male reporter who attempted to grab at Harry, and the man returned the gesture. They struggled with each other to the ground. Marner fought back and yelled something to another officer who was rushing towards the fight.

Chaos broke out. The reporters all made a mad dash for Harry. He was confronted on every side by cameras, note-pads, and small black boxes that he thought were tape recorders. Even worse was that everyone was talking to him at once. He felt the pulse pounding right above his heart… _Oh no, not here._

"**_IT'S APPROVED!_**" A voice Harry immediately recognized, yelled above the chatter of the crowd.

His attorney stood at the entrance to the hall from the street with a long sheet of paper in his hand. Harry unknowingly put a hand to where the pulsing had become unbearable.

He regally pointed to the seal at the bottom and said, "The Magistrate recently issued that my client's name shall remain out of the paper."

There were shouts of outrage, all of which was directed towards Harry's attorney. He only smiled and pointed elsewhere on the official looking paper. "And photos as well due to the…."

His attorney's words were suddenly drowned out by the reporters' united roar of rage.

A hand grabbed Harry from the crowd and roughly yanked him away from the mass of press personal and then through several twists and turns of the building. Harry's mind was too preoccupied to care.

He watched as tall bars loomed into view. The man pulling him said something to the guard at the bars that served as doors. The guard nodded and gave Harry a slightly eerie grin before opening the bars.

The officer with him pushed through the opening and went to talk to the other guard.

Harry flew pass a mirror as he stumbled through. He yelped softly and went back to look at his refection. A grim-faced person stared back him. He felt his face with his chained hands and traced a deep blood-crusted, gouged line running diagonally across his face from his forehead over his nose to his left cheek. _From some officer's ring._

It still hurt, but not as much as before.

He touched his cheek. It felt waxy and was very pale. In the mirror was a deathly figure. He looked like a figure out of a scary movie. The scar crossing his face made him look even more frightening.

His eyes were cold emerald stones, like those onone of Aunt Petunia's necklaces. The pulse that he felt within him was visible. His eyes carried the signature emerald, but it was hard and cold. He cringed from looking into his own eyes.

The cells loudly opened and closed behind him, and he jumped slightly. Thoughts of never seeing the outside of that place reentered his mind so suddenly that he got dizzy. He swayed a bit on his feet and felt as though he had been punched in the stomach.

"_Fresh meat_!" Someone yelled.

An officer pushed him away from the mirror, and Harry fell.

All of his helplessness left immediately. He felt the pulse burn uncontrollably once again. Harry growled under his breath. The new guard looked at him with disgust. Marner, his now regular guard, had stayed behind in the courtroom.

"Get up and move it!" The man growled at him.

Harry ignored him completely and turned his attention to the inmates.

Inside one of the cells, the women were clawing at themselves and the others in there with them. Some were at the bars hissing and screeching like cats. _Just like caged wild animals…_

Harry stood up slowly with the guard eyeing him suspiciously.

"Hey _Ronny_," One of the ladies said to his new guard in a saucy voice, "whose the kid?"

"Why don't you bring him over so we can… show him the _ropes_!" She shrieked with laughter.

"_And how to use his_!" A beetle-eyed woman yelled. All of the nearby ladies howled with laughter. The sound was so eerie and obnoxious that Harry subconsciously took a few steps back in surprise.

His guard swung around and, seeing Harry back away, swung his baton at Harry. Harry ducked on impulse, but he was not quick enough to avoid it and caught the hit on his shoulder.

He went flying awkwardly because of his heavily chained hands. Before he could react, he flew face first into one of the bars of a cell. There was a loud crack and he felt his nose break. Blood squirted everywhere and continued to drizzle from his nose.

His eyes watered from the pain, but he could still see what was happening around him. All of the inmates in his line of vision were glaring at the officer. Even the ladies the officer was talking to were giving him half-smiles and glancing at Harry in something akin to disbelief and pity.

The officer appeared to not have seen the extent of his actions, or if he had he did not care. Harry could not care less which. He wanted revenge.

He saw red. Maybe it was just his blood, or the pulse burning like lava, but his mind was clouded with it as he stayed on the floor.

A hand reached out from between the cell and grasped his jail shirt tightly. Harry felt something bubble within him. He turned, ready to attack, and found a silver-haired guy peering at him from behind the bars.

The guy did nothing but look into his eyes, then a startled gasp rose from his throat as his eyes traveled upwards to Harry's forehead.

"The guard." The man said in a graveling voice, his shaking as though he was afraid to speak. "Bring him to the bars!"

Harry saw the other inmates in the cell smiling nasty smiles. He was sure something horrible was going to happen to the guard. Harry nodded slowly, afraid to move too fast.

He stood slowly, using the bars as crutches. He turned around and promptly slipped and fell on his own blood.

That attracted the guard's attention. "Ha! It's about time someone put you in your place," He approached Harry now, "you're nothing but a little wanker!"

He grabbed Harry by the back of the neck and pulled him off the ground. "You little bugger!"

Harry spat directly into the man's face, putting some of his blood on the man as well. The man's eyes flashed in fury. "_You ba-_."

Harry jumped and kneed the man so hard in the groin that Harry felt a strong ripple go through the man's body before they both fell against the bars.

Hands reached out and grasped the officer immediately. The man screamed and fought, but the hands were persistent. Harry swayed and, spent, sat on the floor breathing heavily. His head was pounding and spinning. He knew that loosing so much blood was making him dizzy.

He laid himself flat on the prison floor, in his own blood and closed his eyes.

The events after that were difficult for him to recall. He clang of the bars mixed with hurried footsteps, joyous yells and cat-calls. He heard loud shouts and whistles. He felt himself being lifted. There was some time that he felt he was bouncing up and down. Finally, he was laid back down again. Then, everything went completely black and silent.

"_-when the nineteenth got away_!" A male voice yelled.

"And the kid almost d-." Harry heard a woman say softly before being cut off by the man.

"_Who cares about the kid, Miriam! We lost six able-bodied men! The kid could get put to sleep for all I care!_"

Harry thought about opening his eyes and looking at the man, just to get the picture of the man's face in his mind. At the moment, he had Uncle Vernon's face with the man's voice shouting.

"I care for the kid. He's just a lost kid, John. You heard what his family did to him! And you said yourself that he was in a bad state when you walked in and saw him in the cell."

Harry heard the man snort loudly. "And I still want to know who brought the piece of trash to this cell!" The man soundly as though he were speaking to someone in particular but no one responded.

"It's impossible that someone brought him in here. We had lockdown right after the attack, and then we had an emergency meeting. No one had blood on them except the people who were hurt. That means none of the faculty carried him. And it's very unlikely that the inmates carried him."

The man snorted again. Harry heard someone approaching him. He felt the body heat of the person. And then her perfume hit his senses. It was the perfect blend of strawberry and another sweet fruit that he couldn't identify.

Harry knew then, even before he had seen the last, that he liked her. She laid soft caresses on his body healing him with her very touch. _She must be an angel._

"_Miriam-."_

"Oh, leave it, John!" The lady said.

She went back to applying nasty smelling medicine to Harry's face.

There was silence. Only the sounds of breathing reached Harry's ears. He felt himself nearly drifting off to sleep under the massaging that the lady was blessing him with.

It was a touch he had always imagined his mother would give him if she were still alive.

He had always had a dream with her in it. It had a great white house with a grand yard. It had a gigantic tree, and he would try to climb it in every dream.

He would always manage to climb that tree. But once up, he was not able to get back down. He would cry and he would fall from the tree. Then his mother would come… She was a beautiful, red-head woman, the one that Harry found in a ripped picture in the cellar before Uncle Vernon burnt it and beat Harry for going in the cellar and going through their things. Uncle Vernon had conveniently _forgotten_ that he had sent Harry down there in the first place.

She would come like an angel, smelling sweetly like the woman treating him now. She would take away all the pain with one kiss.

But he never received that kiss, for every time he had that dream, he would awake to Aunt Petunia's pounding on the cupboard door.

_Not this time_! _There's no Aunt Petunia to ruin the dream this time_!

Harry could feel her coming. The smell of her perfume was tickling his nose. Her red head was closing in. He felt her body heat. Bit by bit her face loomed in. He could almost decipher her facial features. He saw her green eyes; they were the same color and shade as his.

_We do have the same eyes, _he remembered from the picture.She loomed in closer. Her lips were nearly touching his cheek.

"Get off me!" Harry's eyes flew open at the shriek.

He was in a completely walled cell. There was one opened, black, and knob-less door. There was a tiny window that was barred completely. Only the tiniest bit of sunlight came through, the only other source of light was opened door.

A very petite brunette was struggling with a tall, heavy-set man. _She could be my height!_ Harry watched them struggle with one another for a few moments in astonishment. The woman, though considerably smaller than the man, was putting up a good fight.

A loud smack rang throughout the room. The man took a startled step backwards and held his face.

Harry thought he saw the man's eyes flicker to him, but he was certain that he only imagined it. The man let go of his face and walked quickly out of the cell. He began talking to another officer in hushed tones.

The woman, looking stunned by her own actions, hurriedly began packing up bottles and bandages that Harry guessed were for him. She threw worried glances at the doorway where the two officers were conversing. She did not seem to notice Harry until she made for a bottle of foul-smelling ointment that lie next to him.

"Lie down!" She whispered to Harry fiercely, pushing him into a laying position. "He's in a foul moo-." The door slammed shut behind them. "Oh that's rich, lock us both up together. At least we don't have to see his distorted face!" She slammed the bottle of ointment into her bag and took out a thick, radio-like device and began punching buttons.

Harry, enthralled by the sight of the woman, did not see that they had company until he heard the click of metal and saw the gun held to the nurse's head.

"'Distorted'? You know you _love_ this face." Harry was frozen stiff, and he gripped the hard mattress beneath him from fright.

He remembered discussing guns in class one day. It was not a topic that he had liked, but he had still been interested in. He remembered hating the thought that a single bullet could kill immediately if aimed in the right area. It did not give the victim any chance of fighting back. _Most people deserve a chance to fight back_…

_Especially the nice nurse!_ Harry was suddenly brought back to realty by a scream from the nurse.

The tall officer held her beneath him on the ground. She struggled, but Harry could see that the gun to her head was keeping her from defending herself. Her shirt was ripped open. Harry blushed and turned his head slightly as he saw what he knew he should not.

"Come on kid, you can watch! You might actually learn something and get a chance to do it to her yourself!" The officer gave a very ugly smile and quickly unbuttoned his pants.

Harry gripped the mattress harder. _Where was help? Why did not anyone hear her screams and yells for help?_

He shut his eyes in concentration. The pulse came to life. _I have to help. _It grew stronger, and stronger._ I have to help! _

"Get off her." He said. The words vibrated throughout the room. The man did not seem to have heard him. The woman did however, and turned to look at Harry with tears in her eyes, willing him to lie back down.

Harry felt more anger bubble up inside of him. He said it one more time. The man turned to him with blank eyes. Harry's breath caught his throat as he saw the gun suddenly pointed at him.

Harry felt it coming from within him. He could not control it. It bubbled slowly up from deep within him. The pulse was beating painfully and burning like lava. And just when the gun went off in the man's hand, something erupted from Harry's eyes. The bullet met a beam of green light inches away from Harry's face. The bullet spun there in front of Harry as though it wished for nothing more than to impale itself in Harry's head, but something was keeping it from completing the goal.

The man jumped up with his pants around his ankles, appearing completely unaware of his state of undress. His shocked eyes frantically shifting to bullet unnaturally spinning in midair and then to Harry.

Harry felt himself smile in relief. He barely noted the glow or the burning of band on his wrist as the man turned and tried to run. He did not get far. The bullet spun around and zoomed right into the back of his head before he had taken three steps. His face implanted itself on the wall with a gory, bloody explosion

Harry sighed in relief that the nurse was saved and succumbed to a sudden sleepy heaviness that fell upon him.


	4. Chapter 4

_The Bolt at Sirkins_

_Six years later…_

The grounds of Sirkins Juvenile Delinquents' Correction Facility were bustling with activity. Youths argued, fighting, played cards, and traded goods that they had received from their families or the state during the last post delivery.

Harry Potter sat away from it all. He wanted to be alone for some time to think about the French Revolution. It was a strange subject that he had come across in the book he was reading: _A Tale of Two Cities._ He remembered hearing about the revolution somewhere in the meetings that government called school. _When I went to school._

Lost in his thoughts on the slaughtered aristocracy, a shadow slowly loomed towards him. He looked up as a fresh inmate came up to him. The boy was positively shaking. Harry did not know if he should laugh or sigh. The boy was afraid of him.

Every newbie was assigned by older inmates to approach Harry. It was a test of courage, of manliness. Harry's adventures usually were told to the kids, and they began to fear his very name. To the kids approaching Harry, it was like approaching the devil himself. Harry used to care, but it soon took up too much of his mental strength, and he gave up caring.

"Potter, y-you got anot-." Harry raised an eyebrow. _He's too afraid of me to talk!_

The boy backed away slightly. "I-I don't want any t-tr-."

"So you won't get any. What do you want?" Harry said blowing a puff of smoke in the opposite direction.

"A f-fag." The boy said going red.

Harry tilted his head slightly as he openly observed the guy.

He was somewhat older than Harry. He was a thin, scrawny little thing. _A newbie_, Harry decided as he sized the guy up. _He probably arrived within the last week or so. He doesn't have enough bruises to have been here more than ten days. He's probably learning his way around, trying to find people to socialize with and cling to._

Harry nodded slowly in agreement with himself. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his carton of cigarettes. He selected one and held it out. The boy's eyes lit up. His hands shook at he reached out to take the stick offered to him. Harry suddenly pulled the cigarette back a bit.

The boy sighed. He looked away. "What do you want for it? I don't have anything of value with me." Suddenly, the boy grew angry. "Do I have to suck your fucking cock for a-."

Harry stood up suddenly, and the boy jumped back a foot or two. Harry advanced on the boy slowly. The guy looked absolutely terrified. He backed up into the security fence. He looked like a deer stuck in headlights.

Harry spoke to him in his low, raspy voice. "Unlike the sick bastards who you've come across, I never ask for favors, especially not sexual ones, in return. If I wanted it, I would have taken it." He grabbed the boy's belt, immensely enjoying the shiver that went through the guy before letting him go. "I ask for much bigger and better." He stuck the end of his cigarette against that of the one he had for the guy and ignited it. "I ask that you smoke it right here, right now."

The boy took the lit cigarette with trembling fingers. "W-Why?"

Harry turned away from him and leaned against the fence next to the boy. "You don't know? Many guys here would break your arms just to get one of these. Why do think they are so rare here."

The fence was rattling as the shaking boy leaned against them, too afraid to move way. _Or too astounded that I'm speaking to him._

Harry looked at the boy out of the corner of his eye. The boy inhaled and exhaled with a single breath in between. "Don't get greedy, go slower. My cigs are stronger than what you might be used to; you might end up seeing your grits if you keep that pace up." The boy followed his orders. "And stop shaking, you're attracting eyes."

The boy shook himself slightly. "Sorry.

"Never, never say 'sorry' here. Unless you're speaking to a counselor or administrator, it could classify you as 'Beating-Material'."

The boy nodded. "So, how long have you been h-."

Harry replied like before. "Didn't you ever learn, 'Never ask strangers for a lolly'?" The boy nodded, confused. "Here, lollies are questions. Never ask an inmate questions, unless you are really acquainted with them." The boy nodded, drinking his words.

Harry drifted away mentally, ignoring the guy's presence. He flexed his muscles above him, giving him the ability to look around without being too obvious. He noticed several eyes look away quickly. _So they _did_ set this one up._

Harry was well aware why they did, because of what happened to the last one. _He shouldn't have tried to steal from me._ The boy was sent to the hospital as Harry broke both of his arms and fractured his skull. _I let him off lightly._

A disgustingly familiar red-haired guy approaching them on the fence drew Harry out of his thoughts. Harry barely resisted the urge to throw up. The guy called himself Stallion. _Probably because he sucks so many guys off in the bathroom stalls. _The guy was a walking, worn-out mattress. Harry was sure he could see the semen stains on his shirt. _And those are probably just from today._ He walked with an all-telling limp and a slight switch in his hips.

Some guys appreciated his services, being their only option for sexual release that didn't include quality time with Rosy Palm. Luckily, Harry had been very close to a young, female nurse, who he went to see whenever he had sexual urges or just to stop by for a checkup.

"Danny-boy, I hope you didn't forget my offer. I'll be in the bathroom stall when you're ready." The redhead practically moaned at the guy next to Harry. The newbie leaned further into the fence to get away from him. As the "Stallion" turned to leave, he caught Harry's eye, who had only acknowledged the guy's presence with a slight curling of his upper lip.

Harry's aversion towards the guy had little to do with his open sexual orientation or his dangerous promiscuousness. He was one of a handful of admittedly gay boys at Sirkin who was not raped or beaten constantly. Harry had done his best to help another guy a few years back, when the boy had been cornered in the bathroom by some homophobes. No, Harry hated the Patterson for his unending attempts to "taste" Harry.

Harry shuddered slightly at the disgusting thought.

Patterson smiled and placed one of his hands on the fence next to Harry's arm. The guy leaned forward and Harry could smell things on the guy's breath that he never wanted to make a mental picture of. "Bolt, you c-."

Harry growled menacingly and blew a heavy puff of smoke at him. The redhead leaped back and scampered away from Harry, as if Harry had physically burned him. He had sent his pulse at the guy along with the smoke. Harry narrowed his eyes at the boy's back. "Wow, y-."

Harry had had enough disturbances for one day. He turned to the newbie. He could feel his tongue preparing to dice the naïve guy.

"Look, I'm going to give you a bit of advice, and I want you to write it on paper, read it 'til ya need glasses, eat it, shit it out, and repeat. I'm not yer friend, and I'm not ya enemy. Take that however you want. I'll never be yer friend or companion, and I probably won't try t' kill ya..."

He took a calming breath and continued. "We have cliques here. I am a clique with one member, and I like it that way. I suggest you join a one-member clique as well. Until you have a few years under your belt, where can tell bullshiters from cowshiters, stay alone. You're going to get stomped on, robbed, or raped trying to fit in."

The boy paled. He threw his finished cigarette on the ground and stomped on it. "I just thought-." Harry sighed. _Why do I have to be both the nice guy and bad guy at the same time. _"And, I'll send you away with this last bit of advice: don't give out blow-jobs as a payment. I don't care if you're gay or not. You'll end up with so many diseases that you will have to keep a log-book just to remember them all like Paterson." The boy nodded and Harry gestured that the boy should go with his eyes. "Wait, before you meet with Patterson- no I'm not blind, I know he was one of the guys who sent you over here- be careful with that one. He is a breeding site for some rare and life threatening diseases." It wasn't an accusation. His pulse allowed Harry to practically feel the viruses roaming through the redhead.

Harry turned away without seeing the guy's reaction, but having seen the boy's type many times in the past, he knew the boy was looking at him, weighing his statement. He would probably end up with one of the more reclusive, outsiders' cliques by the end of the week.

Harry finished his fag, took off his shirt, and headed towards the training area, which was a new, slightly cushioned area consisting of two benches, three elevated bars, and a chained weigh set. _Which used to be unchained before I lost control last year and threw it at a guard, _Harry reminisced fondly.

Despite the fact that Sirkins was deemed a correction institution for adolescent boys, little attention was paid to education. Whatever level of education they entered with was about the same they left with, if not less. Without actual school, though they were forced to listen to lectures or watch movies every now and then, they were left with little to do the whole day.

Harry took to exercising whenever he was allowed out. He ran laps around the grounds, usually under strict supervision, worked out, and even had willingly participated in the illegal boxing that some of the guards put together in the nearby town. He rarely fought anymore; it had been a release from his banal life and pubescent irritation. He had earned a good reputation for fighting, and a bit of pocket change.

It had also been the time that his pulse had been the most active.

Puberty had been something he could handle, but the constant strain of his pulse seeking a release of some sorts led to Harry worked himself physically. The pulse seemed to find its release with an orgasm or physical exhaustion.

"Bolt," acknowledged the only individual who did not immediately vacate the training area once Harry arrived. He was a tall, bald Irish guy, who was one of the few people Harry actually exchanged words with and had fought at one of the illegal matches. Harry heard that the fight had made legends of them both in the area despite ending in a bloody draw. Over 300 people attended the match, bringing in loads of money from bets and revenue.

Out of habit, Harry acknowledged the guy with a nod and a raised eyebrow. He smiled at the boy's familiar use of the nickname he had given Harry, based on his lightening bolt scar.

Their relationship was a bittersweet but close one. They both had killed someone, which in Sirkins was rarely the case. Fin, as Harry heard him called (his actually last name was Finnegan, Harry assumed), killed his father for some reason whereas Harry killed his whole extended family. Harry saved Fin from a serious beating when he first arrived, and Fin repaid the debt by warning Harry of a planned bang in the bathrooms.

Later on, they trained and fought together. Fin still bore some of the scars while Harry's pulse had long since healed many of his.

They spent the next thirty minutes breaking a sweat. Harry, feeling slightly underworked lately, pushed himself to extremes on the bars and benched a bit more than his own weight. Fin did much of the same things, though not as hard.

Harry felt his _pulse_ beating happily through his veins, not at all feeling the strain on his muscles.

He and Fin worked around each other, rarely touching but always working in unison and helping each other out if needed.

Harry finished his last sit-up as Fin finished his last pull up on the bars. They shared a brief look and moved onto the non-cushioned ground, made with dirt and some hard, cheap turf. Harry stretched briefly and took up a defensive pose and waited for Fin to make the first move so that their faux boxing match could begin.

Harry could feel the other inmates' eyes on them. He smiled inwardly as the guards merely watched and most likely took bets _as they do every time we practice fight._ Chances were generally 50/50 on who would win the match as they were equally capable and deadly.

After a moment of still silence, Fin launched his foot as Harry's face, and the fight began. Harry enjoyed the feeling of his pulse and his body working automatically in unison. He knew what Fin was going to do moments before he finished his last move. It was an enhanced perception of his surroundings and the movement of his opponent that had allowed Harry to win almost all of his other boxing matches, whether they were pretend or the real thing.

Harry didn't tire. He wasn't sure how long they exchanged blows this time, but it normally didn't last more than five minutes. Fin was the only person who fought Harry willingly and one-on-one, mostly due to his training in the martial arts before he came to Sirkins three years ago.

He was two years younger than Harry, from what Harry heard through listening in on the others. Most likely, when Harry left, he would take Harry's position as untouchable.

The match ended when Fin let down his guard for a brief moment due to Harry's fake throw of his arm. He planted one foot in the ground and threw his body in a spin. His other foot connected with the side of Fin's head, and he went sprawling.

Harry inhaled deeply, victory and adrenaline flowing through his veins. His _pulse _cooled his body down gradually. His took out two cigarettes, lit them both and handed one to Fin, who was picking himself up off the ground.

He didn't give the guy a second look as he walked away. His body tingled from the exercise.

He headed back over to his spot on the bench far away from everything and everyone but from which he could see everything. Life slowly ebbed back into the grounds. The guards resumed making their rounds, after collecting money or paying up, inmates reentered the training area, some talking to Fin and others on the bars, and Harry sighed lightly his pulse returned, agitated at the rapid approach of an unfamiliar guard.

Harry decided against sitting down, not wanting to give the guard any semblance of superiority over him and leaned against the fence crossing his arms.

"You there! Put out that fag!" Harry growled slightly underneath his breath. _Not one moment of peace, bloody fucking hell._

Harry recognized the man after a moment. He was the new officer assigned to Sirkins, and Harry was sure that he knew what the officer was going to do. He was going to do what every new officer at Sirkins did. He was going to play 'Break Bolt'.

Harry found the game hilarious, yet particularly annoying.

When a new guard was stationed there, they were immediately "informed" of the "special cases" that were housed at Sirkins. Harry was one of the most overrated due to his fighting and the incidents that he was usually a part of. Usually, the officer believed that he could bring Harry done a peg or two. _I don't even have pegs!_

They would usually try to pick a fight with Harry and 'put him in his place'. They usually failed, and Harry made sure they were humiliated before the entire establishment._ That usually ends in me getting into deeper shit and making another officer-enemy._

But, thankfully, Harry had not seen a new officer in nearly two years. _Why now__!_

"I said_ put out that fag!_" He emphasized his point by banging his baton on the fence beside him.

"Bugger off." Harry said lowly but clearly. His voice was usually enough to tell the other inmates to give Harry a bit of personal space. However, those now stood just a few feet away from him merely formed a small but growing crowd around the two.

"_Just who the hell do you think you are kid_!" Harry did not respond. He felt his pulse increase. He inhaled slowly and exhaled the smoke as though the man before him did not exist.

That was obviously the last straw for the officer-guard. The new guard grabbed Harry's chin and attempted to pull the fag from between his lips.

The grounds of Sirkins Juvenile Delinquency Facility went abnormally still, again. The guards posted around the grounds showed their batons threateningly and began moving towards the disturbance. The older inmates all knew the act. The officers had their batons only for show. They could not really use them. But nevertheless, the inmates allowed the officers to pass through the crowd without causing them any problems.

Just as the guards reached the two, Harry head-butted the officer with such force and such a crack that it was guaranteed one of them would be carried away with a cracked skull. The officer sunk to the ground like a dropped doll. Harry inhaled deeply on his cigarette and then spit the still lit cigarette out on the unconscious officer.

"There, happy?" He said drily.

He saw the officers approaching him redden with anger. He sighed and automatically putting his hands in the air, turned to the fence, and stayed in that position. He knew the drill by now.

"Potter, you're going to dearly pay for that." A terribly familiar, tall officer said roughly putting the usual bindings around Harry's waiting, outstretched wrists.

"We've been through this before, Marner, old boy." He said pulled away from the scene. Marner was the only officer that he allowed to actually discipline him or even touch him. He was Harry's personal guard. _I'm such a lucky boy; the court gave me my own guard!_

Harry knew that the tall officer favored him. They had even developed a bond of sorts. They talked so much with one another, away from prying eyes of course. Over refreshments in the basement of the officer's building, Harry would chat with the only friend he had made in that damned place.

Harry knew almost everything that went on in the man's life, and he knew everything about Harry's.

He found Harry's pulse to be extraordinary and supernatural, though he had been in disbelief initially. The first time Harry had told him about the powers, he did not believe Harry until Harry summoned the powers and turned him upside down. They even went about testing Harry's abilities in Harry's room.

He shook his head at the thought as Marner pulled him through a door in the grey militaristic building that housed _the other inmates._

He smiled slightly. He was considered special. He was housed him in an isolated, highly secured room in the basement of the officers' building. That way, they could "keep an _extra eye_ on him".

_They barely acknowledge my presence._ He rarely saw the outside of his _cell_, except some secret excursions. The other officers, unwillingly, escorted him out four times a day two toilet visits, and two mandatory meals. Two meals that Harry was sure, if they were not required by law to supply to every inmate, he would never receive from the other officers.

He and Marner had snacks and drinks twice or three times a week. Harry always enjoyed it. He knew the only reason that none of the officers were suspicious over Marner going down there, was because Marner was homosexual. They thought he was raping Harry and putting him in his place.

Harry laughed at their ignorance. Harry knew that Marner saw him as a lost child worth redeeming.

And he did not mind the isolation treatment from the other inmates at all. He enjoyed being his bare room, alone. Without monitoring, he was allowed to do a lot of things that the others were not. The security cameras that were newly placed in the other inmates' rooms, were not put in his. They found out soon after his arrival that he was not a danger to himself, only to others. He was allowed to secretly practice those powers of his, just like he would with Marner, without anyone knowing.

He had always known he was special. He knew he could make things happen that others could not. It was his only secret defense to life's many obstacles in store for him.

In the darkness of his lamp-less room, he made light by thinking it. A small spinning globe of light would spin in his hands until he banished it to the other side of the room. In the winter, when the air was dangerously cold to breathe, he made his room pleasantly warm. When it was nighttime and the officers, knowing that he wanted to sleep, would make as much noise as possible, he made his room soundproof to the outside world.

They assumed that he just roughed it, which only made the officers angrier and Harry more of a living legend.

Despite the cool things he did, one of the most important things he used his powers for was to study. Reading and learning was his passion.

In the cover of the night, for the past four or five years, Harry would leave his room invisible and go to the library of the establishment. He remembered the first time he had turned himself invisible very vividly.

It had been pure accident. He had been running away from a gang of older boys and managed to run into a dead-end corridor. The fear that had been running through him was unimaginable. One second they were looking in the corridor for him, the next they were confused and shouting taunts and his name to draw him out. Harry wisely stayed in the corner until they departed.

Afterwards, he began practicing in his room. It was difficult to perform without being in the situation he had been in, and it had taken so much power when he achieved invisibility that he blacked out while invisible. That had caused a big search and a mighty stir in the facility, only for the officers to find him before dinner in his room waking up. After a few months of practicing, he had been able to go five minutes without changing back. _And now after five years, I can go a full two hours without changing back._

He had known how to utilize his invisibility when he had heard from a few boys who later tried and failed to break out of Sirkins that the library was the only place not guarded at night. It was not high on the guards' priority list. Few of the boys went there, and there was no way of breaking out of there. It was built on the highest level of the Residents' Building with high windows and a small metal dome at the top.

Because of the low visitation, it was a fairly neat and quiet place. The books stored there were rather old and outdated, but Harry enjoyed the books nonetheless. It was the library from when the facility had been used as a school for boys fifteen or so years before Harry's arrival.

Nowadays, the library was basically used by the facility to say that the boys needed learning material in order to gain money from the government. After years of this embezzlement, an inquiry was launched, a director fired, and the government was finally smart enough _not_ to send money as was requested, instead chose to send the books instead.

Almost every night, Harry would study the old and new books until his eyes grew tired. Then he would turn invisible and go back to his room without a problem. It was his nighttime occupation. With his pulse making 4 hours of sleep more than enough for him, he managed to spend hours there. The knowledge he received from using his power was absolutely incredible. He had definitely become one of the brightest blokes in the facility.

His powers were his crutch and his only means of survival. Things that life threw at him, he could almost always counter with those powers. Tricks that were made for him were usually avoided and avenged. Whenever he fell into harm's way, he was usually able to weasel his way out.

Yet, it was still difficult for him. His powers could not always help him or protect him from everything. He could never banish the nightmares that plagued him. He could never banish the lightening bolt on his forehead or the slashed scar across his face, no matter how hard he tried. He could never _make_ himself feel happy, knowing that he was rather alone in the world. _Except for Marner._

He shook his head to clear it. A different officer came up to the two of them as they made their way into the building.

"I'll take him; they need you back at the yard." The blond guard said to Marner in a clearly commanding tone. "The boys are getting a little rowdy."

Marner gave Harry a quick glance. Harry knew that to mean that something was amiss.

Marner slowly handed the security bindings over to the other guard and left without saying a word.

The officer looked at Harry with a tiny bit of fear mixed with much disdain.

_He has no hold on these bindings what so ever_. _I could tug them away easily_. Harry walked slower than the man, and when the chain that connected to his handcuffs grew tight, Harry would yank it back, out of the man's hands, and then wait for the angry officer to pick the chain up.

It was a bit of fun, but he grew tired of it after the fourth time.

The officer led him away from the inmates' building and to the main building that held the offices of the head director, the directors, psychologists, nurses, and the wardens. Harry was the only boy in the entire center who had seen the inside of the building more than a hundred times. It was notorious, and Harry was sure some idiot named Ralph was keeping count.

He did not like fighting, which was usually the reason they brought him to the main building. He found that he _had_ to do it. The boys and the officers seemed to always want to challenge him. While Harry was not one want to pick a fight, he knew that the day he walked away from one, he would get stabbed in the back.

_Or hit by an officer._

He gave a small laugh as the officer led him down the pale blue hall to the door of a warden. 'Henry Pilman, Warden O-U'

The officer gave Harry a hard look, knocked briskly on the door, and walked in without waiting for a response. Harry was left outside the door unattended.

It was a test. They used to do it to him often. They would leave him unattended and observe if he would run away, destroy something, or hurt himself. Harry saw the camera in the far corner of the hall spin to focus on him. Harry never fell for the trick. He usually just stayed there and waited patiently. They gave up on the test after a year or so after starting it. He had no passion for the childish mind games that they played with the inmates. Quite a few of the inmates had taken the bait and ended shipped to more strict centers northwards where the boys were said to be beaten daily.

He sat himself down on the ground and played with his messily cut, shoulder length hair. It was a nervous habit he picked up. He was truly nervous. He wondered what they were going to do to him now.

He had never attacked an officer so directly before. _Well, I've never knocked one unconscious!_

His punishments for fighting with the other boys had always been manual labor. Cutting firewood, cleaning the kitchens, and picking up the trash around the facility were the usual assignments. They were not terrible, and he actually found them to be wonderful ways to pass time. _It wasn't as good as practicing his with his pulse, but it was okay._

Sometimes to be snarky, he asked to do it during recess. The officers never let him.

But the times that he had fought with an officer, he had been severely punished. It happened regardless of how little aggression he showed or what the guard he done to him. He shivered at some of the punishments he had received in the past.

Once he had to clean the other inmates' showers and bedrooms, all 214 rooms! Granted, he had fourteen days to do it, but when the other inmates heard that _he_ had to do it, many of them went out of their way to make it as nasty for him as possible.

_Those nasty little fuckers! _

In the five showers on the second floor, the boys masturbated and pissed everywhere they could. The rooms were not much better. And he could not even use his powers to help, there was always a guard there to watch him.

And one time, he had to clean the bird dropping off of the roofs of all five buildings on the property. The worst part was he had to do it while the birds were migrating.

Harry hated to think what they would do to him now. _Maybe they'll make me clean the officers' bathrooms. _He shivered at the mere thought. When it came down to it, the officers were downright dirty. _Dirtier than the inmates!_

A man in a dark green suit slowly walked past Harry, eyes on a stack of papers in his hands. Harry resisted the urge to trip the idiot. He hated that specific director. He was the one who convinced the magistrate to use Harry as an example at Sirkins. While Harry did not like the prison that had held him for a week, _it was bloody better than this place._

He was lucky enough to make a friend at both facilities.

After the death of the officer at the prison, people were practically begging for him to be hanged. They were also pretty sure that he had a hand in the large breakout just a day before the death. The nurse came forth and said that she murdered the man out of self-defense. Her quote, "_I wanted to get him off of me, I did not plan on killing him!_" was the headline of papers the next day.

While the articles had bore little to no mention or acknowledgment of Harry, as the magistrate's decree had been still in effect, it had been well-known around the prison that he played a big part in the man's death. It just so happened that the inmate in the cell next to his heard the whole thing. The officer who had been posted on the floor was fired as he told his part in the attempted rape of Nurse Barbara. He told everything that he heard as well, in an attempt to weasel out of jail time.

Days after the story had hit the papers, a tall, platinum blond-haired guy had approached Harry while he was in the yard.

* * *

"_Potter." He had acknowledged as he had taken the seat across from Harry._

_Harry had just looked at him. That had been the first time anyone other than an officer or a guard spoke to him directly._

_The guy had extended his hand. Harry continued to look at him. "Marcius Malfoy. You can take my hand; it's not jinxed!"_

"_I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." Harry had said flatly._

_The guy man had just blinked. "Good show, Potter. Your parents were just as provoking."_

_That had gotten Harry's attention. "You knew my parents?" He remembered his voice being a bit shaky. He remembered thinking that it was impossible that the man knew his parents._

"_No, I was ten when they were murdered." Harry remembered his heart dropping.__He had thought then,__ why would my parents be murdered?_

_The question must have been written across his face. "They were murdered on Halloween. I remember that night well. It was well-publicized."_

_Harry remembered thinking, __so they didn't die in a car crash__! Harry had not been sure whether or not he should trust the guy's word, but curiosity had gotten a hold on him._

"_But…"_

"_Didn't you know?" The guy had been clearly astounded._

"_I was told that they died in a car crash. That my parents were drunk and that I was lucky to be alive."_

_The man's face had dropped. "So you don't know abo- you survived- who would tell you a lie like that!"_

_Harry had suddenly wished that his family was still living, so he could killed them again. "My relatives." He said had coldly. He remembered the steady pulse beating through him then._

_Then the man's eyes had widened in understanding. He had suddenly leaned in closer. Harry remembered tensing up immediately. "There's so much about yourself that you don't know. Harry, you're a wiz-."_

"_Malfoy! MALFOY! Your time is up!" The afternoon guard yelled, and signaled the end of the Malfoy's recess._

"_I will tell you later." Malfoy said to him before grabbing Harry's hand and shaking it. He had been then roughly led away by the guard._

_Harry never found out what else the guy knew about him. He had been transferred that very day to Sirkins._

* * *

_Where I am _still_ waiting for that sodding idiot to come back_!

Thirty-six minutes had passed. His butt and back were beginning to ache from sitting on the floor. He played with the band on his leg, _the one thing that only I am privileged enough to have_.

He pressed his head and ear against the door. After waiting a few moments, and not hearing anything, he gave up on that.

Ten minutes later, a door opened, but not the one he was hoping for. A sturdy looking woman came out of the door across from Harry. She took one look at Harry and frowned.

"What are you doing here?"

He found no reason to be disrespectful to her, so he answered her question politely. "I was brought here, ma'am."

She shook her head. "What have you done this time, Potter?"

He smiled sadly. "Is it always what I do? Why is it never what others do to me? Ma'am."

The woman gave him a look that he was not familiar with. Harry could tell immediately that she was either a psychologist or a director. They were the only ones who bothered talking to him, and listening to him.

She looked over her glasses at him. "You do know that your record-."

"Excuse me, ma'am. I know what my record says as I was there for _most _of it. But if you looked closely, each time I've gotten into trouble it was after I was beat up or provoked." She slowly nodded.

"As true as that might be, the court does not seem to care."

Harry was puzzled. "The court? What does the court have to do with me now? They already gave their ruling."

She looked down both sides of the hall quickly. Harry noticed that she specifically looked in the direction of the camera, which was no longer stationed in Harry's direction. She gestured for Harry to come with her and opened her office door.

Unsure, Harry slowly got up and followed her. He looked back at the door to the office that the officer entered before closing the woman's officer door.

It was by far the oddest office that he had ever seen. The decor was a mix between professional and an explosion of flowers. The wallpaper, the carpet, the ceiling, even the vase that _held_ flowers, everything was decorated with flowers. Harry shuddered. It reminded him of one of his nightmares where he was attacked by biting lilies. They always screamed motherly admonishments while trying to bite him. He never understood it, but hadn't liked flowers since.

"Take a seat, quickly!" She said walking around her desk and pulling a file from a large file cabinet in the corner.

It was a large folder, bursting with papers and articles. Harry recognized it as a version of his record. It held more information than the file his Warden had. _She must be my director_.

She slipped easily into her chair and opened the file quickly. "Here. A court report from two years ago." She slid a packet of papers across the table.

Harry skipped through the papers. He gasped and he read the statement on the third page a second time to make sure he had read correctly.

_**Petition to have the defendant, Harry James Potter, detained for life.**_

"What the fuck is this!" He yelled. He read the name of the petitioner. "Who is this _Boone_ asshole!"

The director had the nerve to smile. "He's the representation for your deranged aunt."

His mouth moved before he could control it. "That's impossible, I killed her! She's not deranged, _she's dead_!"

The face of the director went cold. "That is to say, the aunt that you _did not _murder in cold-blood."

_Marge! That overgrown elephant bitch!_ The eyebrows of the director flew to her hairline. He did not realize that he had mumbled his thoughts out loud.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. But this is outrageous! _For life!_ I was defending myself!" It sounded feeble the moment it left his lips. "Well, it was revenge as we-."

"Exactly! And that's the card he was playing. He put it out there, plain and simple, that you are unstable when someone does something to harm you or threaten you." She reached across the table and flipped through the papers until she reached page 13.

There, in plain black ink, was a description of every altercation and aggressive maneuver that he had made over the past few years up until about two years ago. Each one, Harry noticed, was cleverly exaggerated in certain areas, where they could not be called false accusations but were not completely true.

Harry read through a few more and then sat back in his chair with a bit of resignation. "Oh, he's good."

"That, I know." She said smiling. "He's my husband."

Harry's eyes flickered briefly to the nameplate on her desk. _'Mariah Boone_' was engraved in silver.

He looked directly her in the eye. "Why did you tell me all of this? Why are you telling me what your husband is doing?"

She reclined in her chair and touched her fingers together, observing him gently. "I see something. Whenever I see you, I see something."

Harry waited patiently for her to clarify. He knew that she was trying to get to him on an emotional level, but he did not push her away. He had learned a lot about people and how they could be beneficial to him from his years of confinement. _Friends and alliances could end up saving your arse sometimes._

She stood up suddenly. She crossed the length of her large office and stood before a large window, that Harry was sure based on the angle of the wall, showed the grounds of institute.

"When you saw a kid being beat up three weeks ago, what did you do?"

Harry was lost by the sudden change of topic. It took him a moment to remember the event. "I helped him out, I think. He was young, twelve I thi-."

"You turned sixteen a week ago. You are also young." She said looking back at him for a moment.

"He was defenseless!" Harry persisted.

"Against eight guys with weapons, you were defenseless as well."

Harry was silent. _What is she getting at?_

After a few moments of futile contemplation, his tongue could not hold itself back anymore. "Oh, just spit it out!" He shut his mouth with an audible '_click_', he had been trying to speak with her in a respectful way.

She clicked her tongue. "I expected someone as _wise_ as you to catch my meaning a lot quicker."

Harry remembered the fight well now. It had been unfair from the beginning. There had been eight inmates against one kid. The boy could not have been more than thirteen. They had been all gang members and he was a kid who rarely spoke to anyone. His family had been killed; he had fought the murderer and killed him.

Harry's eye twitched slightly as he believed he understood. _Perhaps she means something else_. "He was a 'Loner'." "You are too." Harry bit his tongue. He did not want to say this, but he knew she wanted him to. _The things I do for other people..._

He sighed. "He had no one. He fought to stay alive and found himself here. He was-."

"An alternate version of you." She said softly.

_While he did not kill his family, he maimed the man that killed his family, and now his life is ruined._

A silence settled in the room. Harry felt uneasy, disgusted, and angry at the same time.

"There _is_ good in you." She said suddenly. Harry looked up from his fingernails to see her staring directly at him.

"I know that!"

"You've shown it many times." She continued on as though he had not spoken. "The nurse at Mason prison, who you protected from the utmost violation of her dignity." Harry visibly jumped, so taken aback was he. "Not everyone believes what they read, you must remember that."

"The nurse's situation was special, and I was reacting from instincts."

"And the countless kids here who you protected, what about them? The ones you protected because they have no one else to-."

The conversation began to irritate Harry tremendously. "Don't make me out to be some sort of sai-."

"I'm not. You are no saint, but you _are_ human. You are not some animal who fights to survive. You are not some _insane wild beast_ that needs to be locked up. You are not _a menace to society. _You are someone who punches back when the world sends one flying. _You… are… human_!"

Her words pierced straight through the air and him.

"And that is what my husband did not see."

"That is what the world does not see." Harry added.

She gave a quick sigh and left her place at the window. As she took a seat, she gestured to the packet. "Read the last paragraph on the last page."

Harry began flipping through the pages automatically. He skimmed over the page until he reached that last paragraph.

…_the court rules in favor of Attorney Boone. However, due to the special circumstances of the defendant, the court will grant him a final opportunity of limited detainment. The defendant is to be held at Sirkins Juvenile Delinquency Facility until the age of 18. If it should occur that he is held responsible for one more act of violence, he will be returned to the Mason Institute of Correction, where he will carry out a full life sentence without opportunity of bail and under the …_

The seriousness of the situation hit him. He felt as though the very world had stopped, and he was the only thing spinning.

"_Bloody fucking hell_," Was the only thing he could say. _LIFE?_

"That is right." She said reaching across and taking the packet of papers. "And the episode today…"

Harry felt everything crash around him. _This is fucking unbelievable!_ _I could have been free. I fucked up big time. I shouldn't have head-butted him. I should've just put the damned fag out. And the other fights over the past two years, some of those could have been ignored too! As well as-._ He felt as if an egg had been smashed on top of his head._ Wait one moment!_

He looked at the papers again. "Those papers are dated two years ago. Why would they mean anything now? Over the past two years, I had a bunch of fights, why would the one from today be different?"

"Oh, it isn't." She said simply. She took the file to the cabinet.

"It isn't?" Harry was completely mystified.

"No, your attorney managed to get the petition nullified before the magistrate could sign it."

Harry lost control of his tongue again, this time in anger. "Then why the bloody hell did you bring me here and get me all piped up over something that has been nullified!"

She took her seat again and put her fingers back together. "Are you riled up?"

_What kind of fucking question is that! _"Hell, bloody, yeah!" He yelled.

She did not look a bit disturbed by his anger. "Do you regret any of the things you have done in your past?" She asked calmly.

"_YES_!" He yelled. His snapped his mouth shut. All of his anger evaporated instantly, it was replaced by a horrifying realization and numbness.

She said nothing, but her knowing and satisfied eyes said more than words could have. They bore into his without mercy. He wished nothing more than to leave her sight at the moment. He felt so naked. _Damn, for a director, she's one hell of a psychologist!_

"You may leave." She said softly. "I don't you want to feel intimidated or uncomfortable."

Harry's hands shook slightly as he pushed himself out of the chair.

He heard the echo of his rapidly beating heart as he held and turned the doorknob.

"Good-bye, Potter." She said softly as he exited the room. He hesitated a moment. "It's _Harry_, ma'am," he said in a resigned voice.

He slowly closed the door not noticing her writing a report on their interaction with a slight smile on her face.


	5. Chapter 5

**_The Payback_**

Harry sat alone in his room. He wasn't sure if he was thinking, ignoring his thoughts, or wallowing in his own silent self-pity. His brain could barely comprehend the state it was in. He alternated between blankly staring at the door Marner had moments ago hurriedly exited through and staring at his fingernails.

He was soon trying to keep his mind blank, but he repeatedly failed miserably.

The former supply room turned bedroom held a seemingly therapeutic atmosphere. It was pleasantly warm, perhaps warmer that the rooms of the other inmates despite its subterrestrial location. Above all of that, it was comfortable.

Five or six balls of a warm light bounced joyfully around the room at Harry's unconscious command, radiating a calmness perfectly suited for mediation. It was a simple creation and did not take too much power to manage. Harry had used it daily for years for temperature control and light, which naturally led to Harry's ability to create them and maintain them so easily. It would be very gloomy and chilly in his room otherwise.

Yet, Harry barely paid the beautiful, magical lights any attention. His mind was currently preoccupied.

Marner's paled, frightened face during their hasty conversation flashed through Harry's mind like misty, unordered scenes from a scary movie without the intense, clichéd music.

"_Harry, listen to me-."_

"_Leave while you have the chance." Harry had said with conviction._

_Marner shook his head stubbornly. "What they could do to me will not compare with what they are talking about doing to you!"_

"_All the more reason you should leave. What's the point in you getting hurt while they are after me." Marner had placed a hand on Harry's shoulder as if to physically remove him from the room. "I refuse to leave. I am not going to run away from them."_

Harry sighed. He needed something to take his mind off of the conversation. He concentrated and used his powers to conjure a mirror. He had no items on the ugly banal beige walls. He was sure that without his powers, he would have surely gone mad in the cold, dark, empty room.

He made the mirror large enough so that he could see from his toes to most of his upper body. He had learned through painful trial and error not to try and conjure big objects, but to conjure small things and then make them larger. It took much less concentration and power, and did not leave him burned out.

He scrutinized himself slowly from head to foot. He filled the secondhand clothes that he wore pretty well. They were old, used clothes sent from Marner in a packet signed by an 'unknown sender' a few months ago. Marner had gone to his parents begging for his old things so that Harry could wear something other than the court's administered clothes.

_That was pretty brave of him, since his parents hate his very being._

Harry was not able to keep all of the clothes of course. Some of the officers found several articles too "good" for an "animal" like him. Harry was _allowed_ to keep two outfits, which had been slightly too big for him at the time he received them.

Through boxing and the multiple manual labor chastisements he had received over the past years, he had managed to grow somewhat into the clothes. He used his powers in the end to make the clothes fit him properly.

He had muscle tone, though it was something that he considered a consequence of punishments and puberty. He wasn't a bodybuilder.

_Muscles are okay, but acne... I'm just lucky that I don't have too much of it!_

He had never called himself handsome, and he was definitely not terrible to look at, but he still winced when he observed his reflection. There were quite a few small scars on his face from the many dangerous encounters he had faced. With the lights he had conjured earlier rotating continuously around the room, the scars danced as though they were alive.

"I could've taken better care of myself," his breath briefly misting the mirror as he shrunk it to a smaller size.

"Why should I fight? All it does is cause more problems."

"_And where would I go, Marner! I've got no one-."_

"_You have me! Damnit Harry, you can come with me. I can help you!"_

"_You'd only get yourself in trouble with the law. Best let things run their course."_

"_Do you _**_want_**_ to get killed?! That is what they are aiming for!"_

"_Let 'em do their worst."_

"_Harry, listen to me-."_

Harry enlarged the mirror again until it took up a third of the wall and traced the long, faded scar that stretched diagonally across his face. He remembered the day he received that infamous scar very well. It had been his first day in captivity. He had tried to kill an officer.

He glanced over the lightening scar on his forehead. The Dursley's most likely lied about his parents dying in a car crash and him getting the scar as a result. He had heard it from the tall, platinum blond-haired guy at Masons, but even without the cryptic message that guy had given him, his gut told him that his parents did not just die in a car crash.

_Boy, if that could see me now. I'm in solitary confinement close to crying and shaking in from a mirror I created with my supernatural powers because a group of officers are coming to beat the shit out of me, and there is nothing I can do about it._

He inhaled a shaky breath. "I've got nothing to worry about." He felt stinging in the corners of his eyes. "Somebody will hear it… somebody will come.

_Just like they did for the nurse…_ A cynical voice spoke from the depths of his mind.

With shaking hands, he ran his fingers over his other scars, feeling their depth and remembering the stories behind them. It was a distraction from reality, one that he definitely needed.

The balls of light swirled faster, and more in sync, around the room, casting a steady bright light and giving off a warmth that Harry desperately needed.

He felt cold inside, and everything was suddenly becoming colder.

He left the mirror and shrank it before sitting down on his softened bed. He stared at the paneled, leaky ceiling as though he was able to look through it. He toyed with his odd silver band. It, too, seemed to pulse with anxiety.

"I'll be okay. I'm protected by the law, after all." The lights spun faster.

"_Harry, I brought you those books that you liked to read from the library. I want you to wrap them up in a blanket, shrink them, and put them in your pocket." He had said, setting the books on the ground with a 'THUD'._

_Harry, who had been playing with a stream of fire, had looked at Marner with unmasked surprise. "Am I going somewhere?"_

_Marner had sat down next to him and taken his arm. "Harry, the guard you attacked… He was related to another officer and very popular with the others." Harry had just nodded. He had known at that very moment, something was not right. "He wants payback."_

"_What are they gonna to have me do this time?" Harry asked, thinking of the horrible manual punishments the guards usually gave to him_

"_No, it's nothing like that… It's worst." Marner removed his hand. "He and a few others want personal revenge."_

_Harry just laughed. "They ain't got the balls."_

"_Harry, I'm serious." Harry felt his heart drop at the unusual emotions in Marner's voice._

The lights spun so quickly that it was hard to see where one began and another ended. It was a single ring of blinding light and extensive heat. They made a whooshing sound that was similar to that made by airplanes or other speeding objects. Harry could not make it stop; he had lost control of his powers and emotions. He covered his face with his hands when the lights became unbearable.

And then the light was extinguished and the ring disappeared; everything was silent and cold. The warmth, the light, the illusion, all of the things he had currently depended on, had vanished. Harry felt his breath become ragged. He felt every beat of his heart as though it were a drum, beating the Funeral March.

"Why me?" He asked the cold darkness of his room. The tears were flowing now.

He sat up angrily and wiped them away. Now was not the time to show weakness.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS!" He yelled at the ceiling. The mirror shook and rumbled on the wall.

In a blur of silver, the shrunken mirror found itself completely embedded in the wall on the opposite side of the room. It did not break.

Harry got up and conjured another bright ball of light in his hands. It reminded him of a Dragon Ball character he had seen in a comic book in one of the inmate's rooms. It was from that image and movies that they were allowed to view that Harry had an idea of what he wanted his powers to do. He could do interesting things with water as well but only in the shower. He found conjuring water and then manipulating it with his powers to be one of the hardest things to do.

_Manipulating water and waiting for my impending death belong together as the hardest things to do. _

He could not bear sitting on that self-made, comfortable bed, knowing the reality of his impeding future. _Or lack thereof._

He needed something to do. Books were uninteresting now, but he still wrapped the ones that Marner had brought in a thin white sheet and shrunk them. They fit perfectly in his pants' pocket.

He did not have any possessions. Everything that was in any way valuable and interesting brought to him was snatched away by the lovely guards. Harry was not angry; annoyed but not angry. Material things truly meant nothing to him. He did not need anything.

He leaned again the wall in the dark room. He sunk to the floor. He closed his eyes in agony.

"_Harry, I'm serious."_

"_Marner?"_

"_They want revenge. They went as far as to ask your warden for permission to punish you! It took a while, but he granted in the end, as long as his name stays out of it."_

"_Bastard. I always hated him"_

"_They are going to be watching your every move, waiting for the perfect time."_

_Harry had looked at him. He had been completely stunned. "What am I going to do?"_

"_Leave. Runaway, I don't care where! But I won't be able to live with myself if-."_

_Harry lost control. "And where would I go, Marner! I've got no one-."_

Suddenly, with snakelike precision, Harry crept to one side of his door and unlocked it with a thought. The door clicked softly. Harry held his breath. He cracked the door a tiny bit. Suddenly there was movement and noises from the other side of the door.

Fear raked through him. "Shit."

He locked the door, as silently as he could. The rustling and the voices increased in volume. His ears seemed to burn from the intensity of the sound.

He backed away slowly from the door.

_They got me barricaded!_

"I should've left! I should've left!" He whispered furiously to himself, tugging at his hair in frustration.

He felt suddenly trapped. He was. He spun around in circles, trying to think of a way to get out of the room.

He gave up. Resignation reigned, but his remorse of not following Marner remained.

"I can't walk through walls! I'm not a fucking ghost." He sat down on the bed. "I should've left with Marner."

He felt himself go invisible. It felt as though he had taken a dip in an egg-bath. It was not going to be much help now; he was not going to the library. _Plus, it wouldn't do me any good if I went invisible when they came in and I wasn't able to hold the invisibility while they searched for me!_

He returned to his old visible self.

He spent the rest of the night practicing everything he could with his powers. He conjured all that he could and manipulated all that he was able to. Balls and beams of fire and light flew through the room. The pulse was a now a steady burn going through his body. The metal band that he had been required to wear on leg glowed a pinkish hue.

He stood in the middle, directing the flow of everything like a conductor would an orchestra. He pushed and bypassed all limits to his powers that he had thus discovered. The silver band on this leg vibrated angrily, but he did not pay any more attention to it.

He pushed his powers until his body ached and the very air was saturated with lights of different colors, fires that did not give off heat. It was a powerful stress release. He continued until physically and emotionally he could not do more.

Soon, after minutes of strenuous conducting, his powers could not maintain the external displays. With a disappointing silence, everything he strained to maintain collapsed. Breathing heavily, he laid himself down on his now uncomfortable bed. _I've finally killed my powers… _ He drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

He awoke to the feeling of something hard hitting him rapidly in the back. He groaned in pain and rolled over to face his attacker.

One of the officers stood there looking excited and anxious. Harry's heart dropped to his stomach immediately. He knew why the officer was there. It was the punishment that he'd been promised for attacking that one officer. There was no way to avoid it.

The grinning officer pulled him roughly out of bed. He ached all over from his over-exertion with his powers, but his pulse slowly dulled the pain down until it turned into a slight numbness.

He moved mechanically as the officer dragged him up a flight of stairs to the main floor and out of the building.

There was an orange hue in the early morning autumn sky. Harry kept his eye on it. It would probably be the last time he would see it. He inhaled shaky breaths. He knew hell awaited him wherever he was going.

The officer dragged him into the building that housed the other inmates. Harry could hear the whistles and loud bangs as the wake-up calls were being made.

A few boys on the first floor saw him and the officer. When Harry saw them wince, he knew that _they _knewwhat was going on. _Yet, I'm not going to get any help_. The boys, who probably could and would want to help, were most likely too frightened to help him.

The officer led him to the shower stalls for the boys, a small crowd had gathered behind them and was following them from a safe distance. The procession came to a halt, and the officer kicked the door open. Harry went cold all over as he saw a few other officers waiting in there along with the one he had head-butted.

"So Potter-." The officer he had head-butted said. He had a medical patch wrapped around his head.

"We didn't come here to talk to the bastard, Rodger!" The one who brought Harry said pushing Harry into the middle.

_Five against one is always a fair number!_

The door clicked shut, Harry summoned all of the strength he could with his powers.

No one moved except Harry, who moved in a slow circular pattern, trying to keep everyone in his sight. He inspected each of them as a lion would his prey. He had gone from victim mode to attack mode. He would not go down without a good fight.

They all were looking at him, waiting. He remembered them all. They had all played 'Break Potter' at one point or another, and they had all lost. Harry had made each one of them look like a moron in the past. _And now they are going to try to kill me and get away with it._

_Well, I'm gonna take as many of them down with me as possible._

Harry narrowed his eyes as his eyes came to a red-haired officer. He knew then who would be the first to throw a punch.

It would be the officer who had smacked Harry three or four years ago for looking at him in the cafeteria. Harry had cut the seam on the waist of his trousers, with his powers. And when the man stood in the buff before entire establishment, Harry then promptly kicked him in the privates.

His name "Officer Scrambled Eggs" carried with him to that very day.

Harry's instincts had predicted accurately. The man darted forward and swung his meaty fist at Harry. Harry caught the punch and pushed him back. They both went flying. Harry picked himself up quickly. He hesitated for one second, and he was suddenly grabbed by someone from behind.

Moving at an angle that caused his back to crack and ache, Harry threw his weight onto the man and wrestled him to the ground.

He could hear the sound of many voices outside. He could not pay the sound much attention. Officers attacked him fiercely as he struggled on the floor. He _attacked_ back with such ferocity that his sanity could have been questioned. His fists flew and his legs kicked as with a mind of their own. Soon his mind began to piece together sounds and movements that were not coming from within the bathroom.

There was obviously a crowd outside the door.

Crowds attracted attention, _attention that could be dangerous to the officers_.

Attention could also attract help for him. He just needed to hang on long enough for the possible help to come. _Besides, Marner is trying to alert the proper authorities. I just need to hang in until they come._

His pulse helped him threw everything he had strength-wise at them, but they were prepared. Somehow they managed to trip him, with what he believed was water. Two of them held his hands and dragged him into a standing position.

He stared at the wall and used his powers to numb the pain as hit after hit fell upon him. Suddenly, raw pain flashed through him. He screamed as he felt the electric pulse of a stun-gun burn through him.

The bastard laughed.

He thrashed so violently that they were forced to let him fall to the ground. He curled up in a ball and protected his face. The sounds outside the door were growing louder.

_Hang on just a little longer..._

He pushed his powers to their limits once again as he felt the electric pulse surge through him one more time. His powers barely helped with the pain. He screamed. They kicked him and punched him in his fetal position.

A scream tore from his throat as one of the officers began hitting him with their baton furiously. Harry thrashed on the ground, covered in his own blood. Then he felt the electric blaze of the stun gun once more. His powers faltered completely.

Pain beyond anything he had every felt before, surged through him as he felt the extent of their aggression. He only wished that it would end. He begged, praying to any god that existed, for an end.

There was the sound of the door bursting open. Harry saw the blurred figures of two or three individuals rush in. They were not large guys, but they were bigger than Harry from muscle. His pain had such control over his mind that he almost did not realize that they were guys he had helped in the past, 'loner' kids like him, attacking the officers. Soon the odds were against the officers who had grown tired in their game with Harry.

He then heard Marner's voice, along with those of other men. _Help is here_. He could not see them, but he knew that they were there.

Harry gave a grim smile, coughed up some blood, and then the blackness he had seen so many times before met him once again.

_6 months later…_

"…finds the actions of the officers _and_ officials beyond atrocious! The court rules in favor of Mr. Potter." The judge then banged his gravel to finalize the statement and silence the court. "Reimbursement will be paid for the medical and psychological expenses of Mr. Potter, and the other three inmates harmed in that disgraceful abuse of power to the proper authorities. Compensation in an amount of money will be paid to each individual.

Such a disgusting misuse of power has never been seen and _never_ will be seen in this county again. I have never…"

Harry's mind drifted away as the judge gave the five officers and the Warden a violent verbal lashing. Harry had never seen the man so angry. His very eyes seemed to spit fire everywhere.

The poor court scribe was sweating furiously. She was trying catch every word spewing forth from the judge's mouth.

Harry's attorney sat back in his chair, satisfied with the results. _Like he actually did something! The man has been sitting on his arse in the same suit that he wore when I first entered the courtroom years ago._

Harry looked around the courtroom and smiled at the astonished faces of the three guys who had helped him when the officers attacked him. He had no idea of what they were planning on doing with their money. The future was uncertain, but he knew that theirs would include freedom.

He had no such luck. Even if his bail for Masons was paid for with the compensation, he would still have a sentence under his belt. If they took him back to Sirkins, he would have to stay there until his eighteen birthday. _And who knows what they will do to me then!_

He looked at the ceiling as a way to distract himself from the proceedings. There was a new image there. Harry did not remember ever thinking to look up at the ceiling. It was really quite beautiful with angels and wise-looking men. And as he thought more about it, the seats seemed more comfortable than before.

_I wonder much it cost to make such a work of art! The court talks about spending thousands of pounds on charity, yet somehow the rescue homes are getting shut down, the children set on the street without money or hope, and this place is getting cozier and more luxurious! It's a wonder that no one else noticed this._

"Mr. Potter. Are you not feeling well?" The judge asked pointedly to Harry, who had his head thrown back and was openly staring at the ceiling with a grimace on his face.

_No, I'm not well. I actually a little sick of how the court is taking government funds and using them to renovate, when the money could go into the care for children._ He wanted to say that, but a little sane voice in the back of his head told him not to.

Nevertheless, the judge's eyebrows touched his hairline slowly. Harry realized that he had yet to respond.

Keeping with his innocent act, and thinking quickly, he said, "I had a question, but I didn't want to interrupt… your majesty."

There were intakes of breath; Harry knew immediately that he had said the right thing.

A small wave of chattering and laughter flowed through the courtroom. It took all of the self-control he had, to keep his smirk in his mind and off of his face.

The judge blinked and shook his head. The court scribe typed the last words and placed her reddening face in her hands. "And what was that question, Mr. Potter?" He said over the half-muffled laughter and sniggers in the court.

He thought quickly, and said what had really been on his mind before he noticed the ceiling. "Where will I be relocated to? Will I be forced to finish my time in Sirkins or-"

The judge barely took a breathing pause. "Mr. Potter sentences at Sirkins will be considered fulfilled, and he shall be moved to the vicinity and custody of Masons. I _will not_ have a repetition of these events." A tense silence followed these words. "I do believe Mr. Potter has faced once again the cruelness of the world, only this time he had not been able to completely defend himself."

There was an awkward moment as the murmuring began and Harry felt more people looking at him than usual and more concentrated than normal. Harry hated when people gave him those soul-searching glances, _hoping to find that harmless, misunderstood boy_ _that they read about in psychological fiction novels_. Harry sat straighter and rock-like through the inquiring looks and loud whispers.

The judge banged his gravel suddenly, and everyone started out of their skin. The judge was glowering. "I do not believe that I was finished." He admonished. "Mr. Potter has spent six years in this facility. I will be looking into his file to see if any other sickening cases of-." He pulled out the case report from the warden's attorney. "-_ 'inevitable accidental outbursts of frustration'_ have been perpetrated by the officials!"

He all but threw the file back at the reddening attorney. Harry caught himself gasping along with the rest of the people in the court._ If only I had a camera to take a picture of the warden's face!_ The man looked as though he had been sentenced to castration.

Harry was not sure if they were directed at the judge's actions or the document, but it really did not matter.

"Mr. Potter shall be released to the custody of the Masons in four days. He shall spend four days under the protection of this court." He looked directly at the officers. "We don't want any more _accidents_, do we?" The men nodded in fear.

"Judge Omnis, this is outrageously unfair against my clients." The attorney started forward. Harry almost felt sorry for the man as the judge changed the focus of his fury

"I do not need to say that the actions of your clients were beyond _outrageous_! I will say, however, if you dare speak without permission, you will be sharing a cell along with your clients. **Take a seat**!" He spoke with a deadly undertone.

The attorney did not need a second warning.

The room went still as the judge continued. "The accused are charged with attempted murder. An atonement of three- no- _five_ thousand pounds will be paid to Mr. Potter; Mr. Caner, Mr. Topfer, and Mr. Gardner shall be granted with a total of three thousand pounds," The ex-officers looked absolutely mortified, "-a_ piece_!"

A woman, presumably the wife from one of the officers, screamed and fainted.

"Get these beasts out of my sight!" The judge yelled, and he then added as an after-thought, "and get that woman some medical attention."

_I can buy my freedom. Five thousand pounds! I could buy this court if I wanted to!_

Harry could have collapsed to the floor if it weren't for his attorney escorting him. There were shouts of outrage and questions as he was taken through the doors of the antechamber.

He looked over his left shoulder to Marner who was walking a few steps behind him in a crowd of witnesses. The man was absolutely stunned by the result.

Cameras were flashing. Harry could hear the reporters and their questions, but he had no stomach to answer.

When he looked over at Harry, Harry mentally sent him a message._ I guess it's good that I took the beating! _Marner only shook his head and continued to push his way through the crowds.

"You know more than you show!" Harry laughingly said to Marner as they exited the cafeteria alone and headed to get some fresh air after their lunch sponsored by the court.

Marner laughed. "I know manipulation when I see it."

"I did not manipulate the judge." Harry said honestly. "I'm quite sure that he manipulated me."

"Why would he do that? He has nothing to gain by helping you!" Marner said putting an arm on his shoulder. It was a common gesture between the two of them.

Harry winced at the contact. Marner yanked his arm back and eyed Harry in suspicion.

"I think you should take a day or two and go to a doctor." He said concerned. He knew Harry would not wince unless something was causing him true pain.

"I'm fully healed! You heard what the doctor said over lunch. I made a 'miraculous and thorough' recovery. He was so proud of himself! He really saved my life." Harry said with a hand on his heart.

Marner looked around them and shook his head before leaning in to whisper, "You know as well as I do that the doctor had as little to do with your recovery as the pope did! It was your powers that saved your life."

"Well-."

"And I did not mean a physical doctor, I meant a therapist."

Harry snorted. "You would have to make me." He folded his arm, making sure to puff out his chest as much as possible.

"I just might." He growled. Harry felt unsure for a moment. "Stop doing that, you look like a stuffed bird."

They descended into a silence. They walked the long, empty halls with a blanket of tension above them. Both of them wanted to say something, neither knowing how to. Harry bit his bottom lip and looked at his shoes. He hated feeling so insecure.

"Harry-." "Marner-." They said in the same moment

They halted and looked at each other before sharing a loud laugh.

Marner shook his head. "We've known each other for years, talked about everything from sex to extraordinary powers, yet we still act like complete strangers when it comes to discussing normal matters."

Harry smiled. Marner might not have any powers, but he could still read Harry like an open, large-print book.

_Speaking of books..._

"Thanks for the books from the library; they really helped me while I was in the hospital. I've never enjoyed Chemistry, Physic, and Edgar Allen Poe so much than when I was confronted with needles."

Marner gave a small laugh. "No problem, of course." There was silence and they slowly continued walking.

"We're doing it again, aren't we?" Harry asked as they headed down the stairs to the first level. They both sighed and turned to each other on the stairs.

"Harry-." "Marner-."

There was no laughter this time.

An impulse of looking into Marner's mind and seeing what he was thinking at the moment flashed through Harry. He immediately felt disgusted with himself by the very idea of practically, mentally _raping_ someone, especially Marner.

The man had been there for Harry through every single problem that Harry had faced over the past few years. Harry had been around the man from his assignment as Harry's aide at Masons, to his 'mysterious' relocation to Sirkins, and while at Sirkins, they built a pretty close relationship.

_And yet somehow we still can't talk about sensitive stuff!_

Marner sighed suddenly and spoke with a seemingly stiff tongue. "Harry, would you like to live with me?"

Harry froze. That was definitely unexpected. Had it had been any other person in the world to ask such a question, Harry would not have hesitated to give an answer of 'no'.

He was unsure of what he should say. "Marner, I don't know..." Marner's face fell and Harry felt his own heart break a little.

Marner looked away for a moment. "I feared you would say that. I know that it could be a bit queer living with a gay man, but-"

"No, you idiot!" Harry snapped at him, was honestly offended. He bit his lip. "I'm just trying to say- When we hung out and talked at Sirkins, it was- Us living together will be different. We will see each other more often and from a more personal side, you know. I would hope that this never happens, but I think we will become tired or even angry each other- I don't want our friendship to end. I hope it won't, but-."

Marner used his fingers to close Harry's lips rather roughly. "Harry, you're rambling." He slowly removed his fingers.

"But what if-." He quickly clamped his fingers back down on Harry's lips.

"Just nod, yes or no." Harry slowly nodded up and down. "Good." He removed his fingers and pulled Harry into a tight hug. "And if it makes you feel better, it could just end up being temporary. I just want to make sure you stay safe while you are not legally under my supervision"

"Hey, none of that touchy-feely shit." Harry said with an evil smile as Marner removed his arms. "So, it's 'queer to live with a gay man', I ne-."

"Harry, drop it!" Marner said putting his reddening face in his hands. "I knew you were going to make a joke about that."

"Hey, if you use 'gay' two times in a sentence, do they cancel each other out and turn 'straight'?"

"Harry." Marner growled, pouting and looking threatening at the same time. _How cute!_

Harry shook his head. _God, he's rubbing off on me!_

_Rubbing! _He chuckled slightly at his own sexual innuendo.

"Care to share with the rest of the class!" Marner said.

Harry sent his last thoughts to the man and watched him redden in satisfaction.

"I don't care what you say. There is a horny gay guy inside of you somewhere." Marner said with small laugh.

"Hey! Are you coming on to me? There will be no _horny_ blokes _inside _of me!" They walked down the staircase to the first floor laughing uncontrollably.

"Mr. Potter, a word please." The judge said walking out a door adjacent to the base of the grand staircase, one that Harry had never noticed was there.

Harry and Marner were startled and sobered up immediately before looking at each other. _That man was just too creepy sometimes_. The judge turned and walked back through the door without waiting for a reply. Harry and Marner shared another confused look and slowly followed him.

Harry leaned towards Marner. They were both nearly the same height. Harry was definitely a bit tall for his age and Marner was slightly shorter than the normal twenty-eight year-old man.

"What do you think he wants?" Harry whispered.

"I can't say I do." Marner whispered back.

They were in a corridor that Harry was sure held the offices for the court officials. It was plain and reminded him terribly of Sirkins.

The doors were made from the same material as those from Sirkins. They too held golden plates on them, each with the name of the person labeled in dark letters. Harry wondered briefly if the man who designed Sirkins was the same who designed this building.

The judge slowed to a stop outside a door that was made differently than the others. It was more elegant looking with an older wood type and darker, non-transparent window. The judge's nameplate shined in the glow of the hall lights. _Judge Marcellius Omnis_

The judge looked intensely down both sides of the hall. _What is he afraid of?_ Marner shook his head, a clear sign that he too had no clue.

Harry blinked, a bit confused. He had not noticed that he had transmitted the thought to Marner. _Interesting_, _can he hear all of my thoughts?_

Before he or Marner had the opportunity to answer his question, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a brown stick. It was polished and adorned with a golden handgrip. It seemed to be very strong and important.

Harry sensed something odd about that particular stick. He was almost wary of it. His pulse began an attentive, steady rhythm, as if waiting for something to happen.

The judge flicked the stick in his hand.

The door unlocked and flew open as if someone had opened it silently. No one was there beside them.

Harry and Marner both jumped back. Harry's pulse exploded defensively and uncontrollably around him like a tangible shield. Marner gasped and took a few steps back as he felt Harry's powers. Harry looked to the judge with disbelief mixing his every word and thought. "_You're- You're_-."

"Please enter the office, everything shall be explained." He explained in a voice that demanded obedience.

Marner moved and, ignoring the tangible feeling of Harry's powers, quickly pulled Harry, who seemed cemented into the floor, into the office without hesitation. The door closed swiftly behind them again without anymore touching it.


	6. Chapter 6

___**The Honorable Judge Omnis**_

Harry's heart had long since gone beyond racing. He could almost feel it coming through his chest. A whole civilization of people like him existed. People who could do that same things he could. People… Wizards. _I'm a wizard_… Men, women, and children! Families and loads of them!

He looked over to Marner excitedly. He wasn't alone in this world, as he had always believed. He merely belonged to another world. Marner beamed at him, being able to hear Harry's every thought. Harry's heart skipped another beat.

_There must be a catch though_. Harry ignored that thought and paid attention as the judge cleared his throat.

"There are many magical education institutions in the world." Judge Omnis continued. "There are quite a few in Europe. All are in competition with one another, even if they don't admit it. They would all be begging to have your admittance. But I do believe Hogwarts, in northern Scotland is the best choice for you…" He paused as if reconsidering saying something.

Harry's excitement flew out the window. He narrowed his eyes. He hated when there were catches. He hated it even more when things were hidden from him, and he felt Marner tense in the chair beside him. "It was the school that your parents had gone to before they were murdered."

Marner gasped. He looked at Harry to find Harry collapsing deeper into his chair. Harry felt the room spin. Harry remembered the silver-haired bloke from prison who tried to tell him these things. What was his name? The Dursleys had really lied to him. It was not surprising, yet it hurt and infuriated him that something so important was held from him.

Marner grabbed his hand suddenly. Harry then noticed the flickering of the lights. Marner frowned at him slightly and turned to look at the judge's desk. Harry saw something flash across Marner's face and it interrupted his train of thought.

_He's angry. Sad, maybe… but definitely angry._

Harry's heart failed to keep up with the marching beat that it had just seconds ago. He turned to Judge Omnis, who was watching Harry with absolute attentiveness.

The man seemed astonished. "I can feel the control you have over your powers. They have been trained, to some extent." He looked confused for a second before murmuring. "But the band-."

"Harry did it all on his own." Marner said proudly.

"I see." The judge looked at Marner strangely over his glasses. Harry knew exactly what the man was doing, and did not like in the least.

"Marner helped me too of course." Harry said weakly. "He hates to take credit, unlike most officials. He had never really fit into his profession." Harry laughed at his crack at Marner. He was the only one.

The tension in the room was painfully obvious.

Harry took a deep breath. "So, can you tell me a bit about this Hogwarts? The connection to my parents is… interesting. But, what about the academics of the school? How does it compare with other schools? And the faculty?"

The judge and Marner both looked at him in unadulterated surprise.

Harry rolled his eyes. He obviously was not dumb, even Marner knew that. He merely showed his uneducated "upbringing" so people would underestimate him. They usually did. It was true that he had never had a real education, but he did enjoy learning.

_People think that I'm too common to consider such things-._

"Oh, no, Mr. Potter. I had no such presumption in regard to your intellectual capability. I just did not expect such an interrogation on the scholastic proficiency of the school. We had believed that the connection to your parents would be enough to simply insure your admittance." The judge said honestly.

Harry felt his powers go on alert. The man had read his thoughts. _Again_. He was not sure how to stop the man from doing it, but was definitely going to try. He felt almost naked before the man. He really hoped that his magic would do it naturally as he really had no experience with magic in comparison with schooled people.

He felt the pulse - _magic_- flowing through his mind.

He sat back and listened as the man went into, what Harry was sure a sugarcoated history of Hogwarts. The lecture could have been giving to him out of a book from how scripted it was. Harry did not ask any questions, as he was not in the least interested. He wanted to know who the "we" were that the judge had mentioned a bit earlier. Who wanted him to attend Hogwarts, and why?

He looked at Marner out of the corner of his eyes. The man was deeply interested in the lecture being giving. Harry could still sense Marner's anger and- was that sadness again? _What is wrong with him?_

Harry made to send him a mental message, but his magic pulsed suddenly. The judge had suddenly looked him in the eye. Harry smiled lightly.

"So competition is important at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, remembering the man saying something about separate houses. "Among the houses, and the students? Wouldn't it be wiser to encourage students to work together to achieve maximal effects?"

The judge blinked a few times. "Without competition, one cannot achieve their maximum potential. You have to learn your strengths and weaknesses by comparing them with those around you."

Harry smiled and nodded understandingly. _What a load of shit!_ "I understand."

"That concept of rivalry is also a strong principle of the Wizarding world here in the United Kingdom. The best, and the strongest, will get the best. So it is important that the children understand it from young ages. Otherwise they would not survive in our world."

Harry nodded once again. "I see." _To hell with this world of idiots._

Marner looked over at him in surprise. Harry winked at him with the eye the judge could not see. A smile flickered across the man's face only to be replaced by the intense "I'm going to pretend to listen but really don't care" look.

Harry was not someone easy manipulated by others, and he surely despised it when people attempted to give him the run-around like some kid. He could nearly taste the manipulation flowing from the judge's words. Someone really wanted Harry to go to this Hogwarts. If they had gotten Judge Omnis involved, then he must have been helping the people by helping Harry get his freedom.

_For how long though?_ _It isn't possible that they were aiding me from the beginning, or is it?_

Harry was confused. Something was tugging at his memory, yet he could not grab it.

"So, Mr. Potter, any other questions?" The judge's voice brought him out of his mind.

Harry paused. Someone wanted him at Hogwarts, but the urgency was something that also bothered him. They had thought that he would immediately agree to go to Hogwarts from the mentioning of his parents.

The people obviously did not really know him. They probably thought he was an overly emotional teenager, a normal teenager.

His eyebrows rose as an idea came to him. "Hogwarts sounds interesting… but what about the other academies? You've told me everything about Hogwarts, but nothing about Hogwarts in comparison with th-."

The judge seemed a bit impatient and nervous now. "I did really know anything about the other s-."

"Where could I find information about the other schools?"

The judge was becoming red in the face. "I truly don't believe that that is necessar-."

"Oh, but I do." Harry said definitively. "It is a choice that will affect the rest of my life. I would like to make a good, impartial decision."

The judge's chin twitched. He looked at Harry in the eyes for a few moments. His brows slowly furrowed in confusion. Harry could feel the man trying to read his mind. His magic was pulsing lively, surely keeping the man at bay.

The judge smiled suddenly. It was a good-natured smile. "I do believe, Mr. Potter, you have slowly destroyed every single expectation that I had of you."

_I usually do_, Harry smiled back. "Is that a good thing?" The atmosphere of the room changed instantly.

"Oh yes, my son, it is!" The judge said happily. Harry twitched slightly from the instantaneous change in the Judge's disposition. "Albus will have a hellish fit when I tell him this, but it won't be the first time."

Harry looked at Marner. The man appeared to be just as confused as he was inside.

"I have had nothing but good expectations from you, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you will be the one to whip this world into shape." Harry's eyebrows went up. "You see, Mr. Potter," He leaned onto the desk, "manipulation is another characteristic of the Wizarding world, especially in our _great_ land." He said with a sarcastic laugh.

"I do not like manipulation." Harry said honestly.

"I as well." The judge said massaging his forehead. "But I made a Magical Oath to the headmaster from Hogwarts that I would do what I could to convince you to go to Hogwarts. I did what I could!" He laughed.

Harry's lips were suddenly dry. "And this… headmaster, is he someone I should be worried about?"

The judge looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, not at all. However, I do believe being a bit cautious would not hurt. I believe he has his own connection with you that he wants to establish, whatever the cost."

"Why?" Marner blurted out.

"Because of _who_ Mr. Potter is."

Harry opened his mouth, yet Marner responded for him. "And who is Harry to these people?"

The judge flipped his hand on the desk. A newspaper, looking almost as old as Harry, flew to the man. He barely looked at the paper before setting before Harry and Marner.

Harry's mouth dropped at the title of the cover page. "Harry Potter Defeats the Dark Lord: Long Live The Boy Who Lived."

Harry felt cold all over. Marner gasped. He pointed to a passage from the paper. Harry noted, in the back of his mind, that there were fireworks exploded across the page.

"Albus Dumbledore, esteemed headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, declared in the Ministry of Magic before the Wizengamot this morning that the Dark Lord has indeed met his demise at the hands of one-year-old Harry Potter. The details of what occurred were not even clear to Dumbledore himself.

Harry Potter's parents, Lily and James Potter, both Ministry officials, were unfortunately murdered by the Dark Lord in the…"

Harry briefly stopped reading to look at the picture of his parents included in the paper. They were dressed in obviously rich, yet odd clothing. They were at a party of sorts. There were other people, similarly dressed, dancing in the background.

His resemblance to his father was indescribable. If Harry did not have the scar stretching across his face, the scar on his forehead, and the green eyes, they could be twins.

His mother was beaming. She held her stomach proudly. _I was probably in there at the time the picture was taken._

His eyes watered slightly. They seemed like nice people, esteemed people. Not the drunks that the Dursley made them out to be.

Harry skimmed over the rest of the article.

He picked up words and phrases that he did not understand, but he understood the message of the article. He had managed to kill the man who attacked his parents. _How though?_

He growled as he reached a passage where they discussed his removal from the Wizarding world "for his own protection" by-.

A powerful vibration went through the room. Both Marner and the judge jumped slightly.

Harry's eyes burned. The lights flickered and the paintings on the wall rattled against the walls. "It was this Dumbledore, wasn't it?" He asked in a soft, yet dangerous voice.

"It was Albus who did what?"

"Who placed me at the Dursleys?" The judge froze. Harry pointed to the passage that said just that. The judge gave a stiff nod. "If I remember hearing my lovely Aunt Marge correctly, he paid my relatives to torture me?"

The judge held up his hand. "I'm sure he had no idea of what was going on in that house, Mr. Potter. That cannot be held against him."

Harry's anger was not assuaged. "And-." He stopped before the question was formed. Another question had popped into his head. "Does the Wizarding world know of what I did to my relatives? Or of what my relatives did to me?"

The judge did not hesitate. "No."

"Why not?" Harry had a feeling that he knew the reason. "Why was my name kept out of the papers? Pictures were forbidden as well, if I remember hearing correctly."

"That was all my doing."

"And why?" Harry's stomach was clenching.

"Albus thought it was best if the Wizarding world did not know of-." _This fucking Albus Dumbledore again!_

"His mistake." Harry finished for him. He was really beginning to dislike this Dumbledore. "What kind of authority over my life does this headmaster have?"

The judge was being absolutely honest with Harry, and Harry appreciated it. He hoped that the man remained honest. "Much. He has much influence in the Wizarding world. He's respected as one of the greatest men since Merlin. When he speaks, people listen, and usually, do what he tells them to do."

"You seemingly included." Marner said bitterly.

The judge flinched slightly. "I owe him... much."

Harry sat in reflection. It fit. Somehow, it all fits. Things clicked slowly and came together in his mind. He still had a few questions.

"And who was this Dark Lord."

"_Is_." The judge corrected. "He is the darkest wizard that we've seen since in centuries. His very name is not spoken out of fear."

Harry kept himself from laughing at fearing someone's name. He had heard about a movie like that. Jason or Freddy something or other and the people were afraid of saying his name in the dark or before a mirror. _Idiots_.

Something the judge said clicked in his mind. _Wait_. "Is! He's not dead?" The judge nodded. "But the paper says-."

The judge sighed. "The beast has managed a way to remain come back. Don't ask how, I don't know myself. The fact that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned is being seen as a fabricated rumor. But they are being silenced by the Ministry of Magic-."

"The government?" Marner asked.

"Yes, the government." He stood up and walked slowly to a painting. Harry remained silent while the judge examined a painting of a very elegant, beautiful woman. "There were some odd things going on last year at Hogwarts, while Hogwarts was hosting a competition with two other magical academies. It ended with the death of two students and a few other people. Dumbledore is spear-heading a campaign to inform the world that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned."

Harry chuckled slightly at the name. Marner smiled at him. They had the same thoughts. _These people and these names …_

The judge ignored them. He obviously knew exactly why they were amused. "The Ministry has been trying to silence Dumbledore. They call him insane. They've stripped him of every title that they could. They do not want to alert the public that He is back.

They have even tried to force him to abdicate his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts. That's when Dumbledore started firing back at them. If there is one thing Dumbledore cares about in this world, it is that school and the children who go there." The man took his seat.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Marner skimmed through the paper. He exclaimed halfway through the sixth page, "The pictures move!"

Both the judge and Harry looked at each other and shared a light laugh at Marner's expense.

"How were you able to keep me hidden from the Wizarding world?"

The judge clapped his hands together happily. "I was waiting for you to ask that."

He reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled out a glowing ball of glass. "Have you ever wondered why you had to wear that silver band on your leg and no other inmate did?"

Of course he wondered. He hated the damn thing. It always made his skin prickle. And the other inmates had always teased him because of it. He gave a simple nod as his answer while tugging at the irritating thing.

"That band- yes, you will be able to take it off now- is a magical object to hide and restrict the amount of magic a wizard can use." The band fell off of his leg before he could even touch it, but Harry barely paid it any attention. But felt an immediate sense of alleviation and freedom. His pulse turned into steady hum within him.

"What!?"

The man nodded. "I thought that, after attacking an officer with your powers, it would be best if you had limited use of your magic."

"WHAT!" Harry was ready to use his powers on the man. _How dare he attempt to control my powers!_

"Harry, wait. Think about it. What happened with your relatives?" Marner asked.

Harry growled but held his tongue.

The judge gave Marner a thankful look. "And you see now why I was so surprised that Mr. Potter has been training and practicing his powers. A full-grown wizard, with complete access to his magic would not even be able to cast a simple Illumination Charm with it. And Mr. Potter's age, he has not even reached magical maturity..."

"Harry is one powerful person." Marner said proudly. "Amazing even."

Harry smiled. "I had to get it from someone."

The judge looked from Marner to Harry with an unreadable look. "I agree Mr. Potter. That leads into another matter I wanted to discuss with you." He pulled out a very old sheet of paper. "Your guardianship."

"Marner." Harry said immediately.

"I wish it was that easy. I too have observed the relationship between the two of you." Marner and Harry looked at each other in surprise. "Who do you think stationed Marner as you personal guard and relocated him to Sirkins when you were moved."

"I knew it was someone's bidding that I was guarding Harry." Marner murmured.

"If you wanted Marner to guard me, why can't he do so now?"

The judge sighed sadly. "There are many people in the Wizarding world who would literally kill to have you under their care, some with intentions of the worse kind. Most of them in league with He-Who- Must- Not- Be- Named."

"And because of this 'Boy-Who-Lived' bull." Harry said.

"For lack of better words, yes."

"They want control over him!" Marner said in shock.

"Mr. Potter has celebrity status and prominence that many want under their grasp. He will have much political status when he enters the world-."

"_**If **_he enters that world!" Marner rephrased.

"Oh no, because of his lack of experience with his full powers, he must. It is something simply required of every single wizard. It is imperative! That is why each magical government has an infallible record of every wizard born in his region. An untrained wizard is dangerous. It would be dangerous for him and the people around."

_Like I did with my relatives._

Harry spent a moment thinking about what he could do with his full powers.

"But back to the political status..." Marner said slowly.

The judge readjusted his glasses nervously. "Mr. Potter has inherited a large amount of power in the Ministry of Magic-."

"Your wizard government?"

"Yes!" The judge seemed a bit edgy to Harry. He had a nervous twitch under his left eye. "Mr. Potter has a seat in the governing body, the Wizengamot." Marner opened his mouth. "From his father, of course." The judge answered his question before he even asked it.

_Cool_.

"So a seat in the Wazi- governing body is enough to give him enough political power to-."

"No, it is not that. The fact that Mr. Potter-."

"How many seats are there in this governing body?" Marner interrupted angrily. Harry hung his head to hide his laughing. Marner was the splitting image of what Harry could imagine a mother would be at the moment.

The judge was red in the face. "I don't see the impo-."

"Answer the damn question!"

The judge gave an angry sigh. "In the thirties, I believe."

Marner went silent with contemplation. The judge was calming himself with deep breaths and Harry pretended to entertain himself with his thumbs.

He could feel Marner looking at him. Harry knew that the man really did not want Harry to go into the Wizarding world. He was obviously looking for ways to get me to stay in this world. _With him_.

"Back to the problem of my guardianship." Harry said.

"Simply put, it would be dangerous for you to be placed under guardianship with someone who cannot guard you when faced with powerful opponents who are sure to come after you!"

"I can take care of myself, Marner could be there for..." He paused for the right word. "... for moral support."

Marner snorted. He looked at Harry for a moment and then at the judge. "Who are all being considered as candidates for his guardianship?" Harry went cold all over.

"Marner..." The words died on his lips. He didn't care that Marner was unable to protect him, it was more important for him to have someone he trusted around rather than someone new who would do everything they could to make him believe that he should trust them.

He had learned his lesson once in Sirkins and did not need to repeat that experience.

"Harry, I want you to be safe." Marner said with a definite tone.

"But…" He could not just blurt out his reason. He found himself unable to explain why he wanted Marner. _Shit._

The judge finished off where Harry left off. "Lord Malfoy, Lady Bones, the Allots, the Diggorys, the-."

"These names mean nothing to me!" Harry said with obvious agitation. "I don't know these people. I can't know what their intentions are." _There's the excuse I was looking for._

The judge sighed. "Of course. I've almost forgot your lack of wizard upbringing." Harry could almost hear the rest of the sentence "and your ignorance". "Forgive me. The Bones are a…"

Harry listened intently to the judge's description of every family. Each one had different genealogy. The Malfoys supposedly had become a Dark Family in the Middle Ages and supported every Dark Lord that came out of England since. They used their name, connections, and political status to keep out of trouble, and when trouble did find them, they used their pocketbooks to keep their problems from surfacing. Harry was subconsciously interested in this family, and he did not know why.

The other families, as the judge immediately said, supported Dumbledore with all they could. Excluding the Malfoys, the families were all in Dumbledore's close circle. They were all however, like the Malfoys, prominent families in Wizarding world.

Something paced in the back of Harry's mind. Harry bit into the lip he had been chewing on as he tried to remember something important. He asked a question that had been on his mind before he got sidetracked.

"Must I choose one immediately? Am I allowed to choose another family, one you have not mentioned?"

The judge sat back in his seat slowly. He rubbed his hands together. "No, I do not believe that an immediate selection is necessary, however I must insist that you make your decision as soon as possible and from the list of people I have just described to you."

Harry made to stand, pushing the silver band onto the table. "I will, but I do need a little time to reflect."

"I must also insist that you inform me and only me of where you will be dwelling in the following days."

Harry considered for a moment. "Understood." He pointed to the sitting Marner. The judge nodded.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I wish you the-." He paused suddenly. Everything that had to do with Harry on his desk vanished suddenly, all that was left were the things that had been there when Harry had arrived.

There was a knock at the door, and the door opened without a word and without permission to enter being asked or granted. The woman Harry remembered to be the court scribe entered and, ignoring Marner and Harry completely, spoke directly with the judge.

"Omnis, the latest case from Masons is waiting." She left just as abruptly as she came.

"That girl will never learn manners." The judge said with a laugh. "My grand-child or not."

Harry did not pay much attention to this new revelation. The names 'Masons' and 'Malfoy' clicked together in his mind.

There had been a Malfoy at Masons. The silver-haired bloke. _He had tried to tell me something about me. He knew what happened to my parents!_

Harry pulled Marner out of the room without a word of farewell to the judge.

"Harry what is-." Marner began at they went through the building's doors into the brisk spring, afternoon air.

"Can you take me to Masons?"


	7. Chapter 7

_**The Malfoy at Masons**_

Harry whistled the whole ride to the facilities. Passengers around him on the trolley sent him annoyed or worried looks. Harry merely smiled back.

For some odd reason he was very excited to meet the man who had once attempted to help him and wizen him up to the Wizarding World.

As the gloomy building loomed into view, memories of his temporary incarceration there hit him with a fury. It was disturbing how no one had questioned the case of an eight-year old being imprisoned with adult, violent in some cases, male criminals. Regardless of the crime, it was definitely still unsettling that no one said anything.

Harry frowned slightly at the grim-faced guard at the entrance of the prison. He had absolutely despised that man for the brief period he was imprisoned there. The man had been a complete bastard, most likely continued to be so. Harry remembered how he almost killed the man by strangling him, earning the scar on his face and the short-lived title "Scarface".

He smiled slowly and darkly. The man growled lowly as he recognized Harry's face, but he let Harry and Marner pass without causing a scene or any problems.

_I wonder if he was demoted._

Harry took a moment to look at the gray, barred, and dreary facility. It reminded him of a documentary he had once watched that described the concentration camps in Germany. Harry shuddered slightly. The inmates at Sirkins had been forced to watch it several times, and the guards subtly threatened them with the same treatment.

_They were all sick bastards_!

Marner, who had been murmuring to himself since they stepped off the bus, stopped speaking to himself and he turned to Harry.

"I can't believe I let you drag me here to help you find the supposed relative of a supposed Dark Family, a family who are believed to be in the same league with the very man who killed your parents, and who tried to kill you, if I had heard the judge correctly! Didn't you even attempt to listen to the man?" Harry had barely nodded before Marner went on. "The family is obviously a bad lot. He said that they have been tied to every single Dark Lord in the past seven centuries, including the one who is living right now, the one who-."

"Please Marner, don't go into your "long sentence" mode! It's terribly hard to understand you. And it's unbelievably irritating!" Harry said ducking as the man swung his hand in Harry's direction.

"Harry..." He snarled. Harry sighed.

_Marner should really be used to this by now. He's going to go home, take a hot bath, and bring me stuff in the morning as always_.

"I know Marner that it's a bit unexpected and crazy, but I have this-."

"-nagging feeling." Marner finished for him as they approached the entrance. "I'm fully aware of that 'feeling' of yours... Harry- just be safe." He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder a made as if to depart.

"Wait, what! You're not going in with me?"

Marner was not one to leave him alone for too long. He was like an overprotective lioness and Harry the cub.

Marner shook his head. "No, I have to run home and check on something."

_That's a lousy excuse for wanting to bathe. If he even wants to bathe._

Harry narrowed his eyes. He knew that it only took two seconds of looking Marner's eyes to see the truth, yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. He could not force another person to bear their mind to him like an opened book. He refused to misuse his powers. He decided to let Marner have his secrets, this time.

"But I will be back in exactly two hours to pick you up." He turned and started off. With only a small nod to the guard, he disappeared in the distance without looking back or saying a word to Harry.

_Definitely strange_.

Harry stared for a moment or two in his wake before shaking his head and heading into the main building.

The place was painted a terrible shade of gray-blue. Harry suddenly felt the need to vomit. His old, terribly large, prison uniform, the one he had been forced to wear during his brief stay at Mason, had been the exact same colour.

"The man who decided the color-scheme for this place should be drawn and quartered." Harry murmured under his breath.

"I hate to agree with a muggle, but I have to there," said a snarky voice from the other side of the, otherwise empty, waiting room. "But, I would say, it's a pretty idiotic thing to do, talking about murdering someone while standing around in a muggle-prison."

Harry momentarily and pointedly ignored the person. _He's probably some loony._

Harry had an unpleasant feeling in his stomach, but he attributed it to the horrific paint color of the room bringing back bad memories.

He walked to the abandoned welcome desk and rang the rusted bell that typically called the lazy people to their posts.

"Oh, so that's how it done! Trust the muggles to come up with such simple and yet dumb ideas." The voice for the corner said.

Harry ignored the person once again as the person asked a question. Harry drummed his fingers against the counter as he waited for the person on call to come. But suddenly something struck Harry and sent a chill down his spine.

"_Muggle", where have I here that word before - from the judge and the paper. What does it mean again?_

Harry took a seat, facing away from where the person's voice was coming. The person continued to talk, though Harry didn't listen. He raked his brain for a translation. It was one of those funny wizard-words. Harry hated when he tried to remember something and it was stuck in the back of his mind. It was almost as if his brain was playing tricks on him.

"Impudent muggle! How dare he ignore me! Doesn't he know who I am?"

_Do wizards always talk to themselves? _Harry had barely thought about his question before he realized his own stupidity.

His magic pulsed through his body, ready for an attack by the wizard.

_How can I be so dumb as to focus on a stupid word rather than the person who said it! Only wizards would use that word! I was sitting in a room with a wizard without noticing it! He could have attacked me!_

He was getting a headache from his brain trying and failing to comprehend his own stupidity.

"MUGGLE! ANSWER ME!" The wizard's yelling caused an immediate reaction in Harry. He lost control of his magic and threw a small bolt of power at the wizard.

Realizing what he had done, and expecting a fight, Harry stood and met his opponent.

A silver-blond haired boy stood a few meters away, shaking with a stick in his hand and bluish force field around his body. The smell of over-pressed clothes and slightly burnt skin filled the room.

The boy, seemingly around Harry's age, snarled something and whipped his wand in Harry's direction. There was a crack, and the beam of orange light disappeared before it had completely left the boy's wand. The boy began firing different colored beams, sparks, and other light figures at him.

Harry was confused. He had never fought with magic before. It was certainly strenuous. And all he could do was block. He realized soon that he was definitely at an advantage with his speed and agility. He was barely working up a sweat by running and dodging around the office. The wizard on the other hand was furiously sweating.

He decided a tough minute or so into the fight that he had had enough. If he could not stop the lights, he could stop the source of the lights. He sent out a pulse, and the boy's stick flew to him.

"WHO ARE YOU!? HOW CAN YOU DO WANDLESS MAGIC?"

Harry growled. "SHUT UP, will you!"

The boy instantly went quiet from the power in Harry's voice. Harry too was surprised but guessed that it had something to do with his pulse.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Said a cool and obviously irritated voice from behind Harry, "but this is waiting room, not a rugby stadium. Please do not yell."

Harry quickly stowed the boy's wand in his pocket. He did not want to get arrested for having a dangerous weapon in his hands in public. He turned to meet the lady with, what he hoped was, a charming smile.

For a moment, he forgot what he had to say the woman. As she gave him an inquisitive look, and a questioning, almost searching, look around them, he remembered what he needed to say.

"I would like-." Harry began.

"Name?" She demanded rudely.

"Whose?" He asked aggressively.

She jumped slightly from his tone. Her eyes narrowed and then went wide from recognition. She eyed him warily, almost in fear.

"The inmate you wish to see. I do not need your name."

Harry opened his mouth, but then remembered the wizard standing behind him. He could be making a big mistake if said the Malfoy name out loud. He was not going to risk the wizard hearing who he was going to visit.

He took the chained pen and wrote the name on a slip of paper before sliding it quickly across the counter to the woman.

She read the paper with an odd look on her face. She nodded slowly. She gave him a pass to clip onto his shirt, a piece of paper, and pointed to a door at the other side of the counter. As she made to leave, she got up left without assisting the other guy.

_What about the wizard_?

Harry turned and looked behind him to find the boy he had fought with gone. He shrugged his shoulders and went through the door the woman had opened for him.

The halls all looked the same as when he was carried through them. The prisoners were just as deranged as before. They beat against the cells, yelled, screamed, cried, laughed, whistled, and stomped their feet as Harry passed by. Harry did nothing to provoke them, merely looked straight ahead of him.

The guards stared at him, most of them knowing his face or at least the scar that went across it. They made no attempt to make communication with him, and he preferred it so. There was whispering amongst a few of the officers as he passed them. Harry gave a brilliant smile and waved at them, without watching their reaction to him.

The cell was at the end of the isolation cells in the basement of the establishment. Harry had been in one of these cells when the nurse was sexually harassed by the officer.

Harry suppressed the bile rising in his throat. He gestured to the guard who had been following him from a distance. The man opened the cell with the number on the piece of paper given to Harry.

The man held the cell door for Harry. "Just call when you're finished." And he closed the cell door behind Harry. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck spring to life.

_I wonder if they do this for every visitor._

The cell was dark just as it had been for Harry. There were no windows or cracks in the walls. There was no slot underneath the door for light to come in. It was a rich and dangerous darkness. Harry was sure he was hearing his own heart beat echoing off of the walls, almost as if three people were in the room.

The lights suddenly flickered on. Harry blinked slightly at the sudden bright intrusion. A figure lay on a bank built into the wall_. Just as I had._

"Draco, is that you?" asked the figure.

Harry took a few steps forward. "No, it's-." Harry's magic pulsed suddenly to life. Something was moving swiftly behind him. With the lights flickering, Harry immediately thought of the electricity of the building and thought of the possibility of controlling it.

Someone gave a wild scream. He whipped around, prepared for an attack and was tackled to the ground.

His magic immediately gripped his attacker and yanked him or her away from Harry. Harry stayed on the ground and eyed his surroundings. His magic pulsing and sent an offensive strike at his attacker.

The lights went out, but a bluish light bolted from the ceiling to his hand and then to the aggressor. _I'm a conductor for electricity… interesting_.

There was a shriek, an oddly familiar shriek. Harry recognized it instantly, and the lights flickered back to life.

"You again!" He growled standing up. He focused on the spot where the scream had originated and the bluish light of the electricity was dying down.

"Give me back my wand." The voice demanded. The guy reappeared in the corner where Harry's magic had thrown and electrified him. He stood as dignified as a rabbit in a snake-pit. Harry resisted the urge to laugh, but a smirk was inevitable.

"Harry Potter? What are you doing here?" Harry turned back to Marcius Malfoy as he spoke.

The resemblance the thin, pale inmate had to the guy Harry had just thrown into a wall with his magic was impeccable. He gasped slightly. His curiosity peaked immediately.

"You're related to him?" Harry asked, gesturing to the guy behind him without looking at him.

Marcius laughed. "Didn't you learn that it is impolite to answer a question with a q-."

"HARRY POTTER!" The guy screamed from behind Harry. He charged forward and, standing one meter away from Harry, studied him as one would an item of interest at a museum.

"Shut. Up." Harry said softly but in a voice that just emitted danger. The other Malfoy took a few steps back.

"My question, Harry?" Marcius said moving to the edge of his bed.

Harry was getting a headache and his powers pulsing through his veins were not helping at all. He took a seat next to the inmate without asking for permission. "I have some questions." He hated being vulnerable and open, but he knew he must.

"I have some too." He said with an attractive smile. Attractive?

"What is going on here?" The other Malfoy said with barely restrained detest which was obviously directed at Harry.

Harry ignored him for the time being. "I need information about the Wizarding World."

Marcius lifted one eyebrow. "Then, you've come to the wrong person."

Harry shifted slightly in his seat. "But I've heard about your family-."

"No good things, I've sure." Harry felt demurred slight from his grim comment but he kept speaking.

"I know that your family dates back to the Middle Ages-"

"Our family originated during the Holy Roman Empire when the warlock Aguis Tylus murdered his mother and brother, changed his name, and became Octavius Malfis." The other Malfoy said with a snarl. "Not during the Middle Ages. We were already a feared name th-."

"Draco, tais toi!" Harry was not able to understand what Marcius had said, but he was able to guess.

"Look, I'm not here to get a history lesson on your family. I need your help."

"And information about the Wizarding World." Marcius added.

Harry slowly explained his situation with that Albus Dumbledore character. Marcius sat back listening silently. He stopped Harry two or three times when Harry had said something unclear. Harry felt a bit relieved to tell someone about his troubles. But somehow, despite him being a complete stranger, Harry felt that he could trust the man. _Maybe, I trust him because he tried to help me..._

"... So, I'm here. Can you help me? What is with this Dumbledore guy?"

Marcius scratched his head with a small chuckle. "I can't really give you an unbiased interpretation of Dumbledore ideals or actions."

Harry's eyebrow rose as if to ask "why not?" His curiosity was certainly peaked.

Marcius smiled again. Harry had to look away as his stomach clenched. _Why do I get the feeling that something is wrong here_. "Well, everything that I have been told about Dumbledore came from sources who, in no stronger words, detest every breath Dumbledore takes."

"Our father." The Draco Malfoy said. Harry registered the fact that they had the same father swiftly.

"Why-."

Marcius cut his question off. "That's not a hard question. I'm sure you have been informed that our family has been a Dark Family almost since our very origin." Harry nodded affirmatively. "Well, Dumbledore comes from a relatively powerful, old family. Much like the Potters, your family. The Dumbledores have been always considered a Light Family."

Harry took a moment to reflect. "So the families hate each other because one is Light and the other is Dark?" Marcius nodded slightly. _How dumb_.

"As for Dumbledore's manipulation... I'm not at all surprised. Yet, I had wondered once or twice why he would allow the Boy-Who-Lived to go through such things as prison without interfering. If I had been in his position, I would have tried to remove you from the muggle custody and have you under my supervision as soon as possible."

Harry had never even considered that. That would have been the smart thing to do. Perhaps, he wanted to punish me for the things that I have done.

"But I can't really give you advice on what to do about him. I've been in this prison since I was about 16 or 17." He laughed. "I can't remember now. But it has been nine or ten years. I really have not been following the political scene in the Wizarding World. Every now and then, my mother or Draco will come to give me updates and make small talk."

"Why are you here?" Harry asked. The Draco guy snorted loudly and answered for Marcius.

"The name Malfoy means nothing at all in the Muggle World, but in the Wizarding World, it means a lot. So, our father thought it would be better to imprison Marcius in Muggle World, where no one would be able to use him politically against our father."

"Why he did not just change my name and obliviate me, I will never understand!"

"Your own father imprisoned you!" How terrible! "Why don't you just... break out? Use your magic"

He laughed slightly. "This little device keeps me invisible to the Wizarding World and blocks my powers." He said pointing to an eerily familiar silver band on his leg.

Harry gasped. He could not get out a single word. Finally, he managed to whisper, "Why?"

"I refused to join his merry group of killers and bow down to the man who they worship as a god."

Harry understood suddenly. "The Death Beaters and Vollemott."

Marcius threw his head back and laughed heartily.

"Death Eaters and Voldemort!" He corrected. Harry shook his head.

"I came to you because I don't like the idea of this Dumbledore, or anyone at all, controlling and manipulating my life. I'm required to have a guardian, but the ones I am able to choose from all have connections to Dumbledore. The only family that is free from Dumbledore's reigns is yours, the Malfoys."

Marcius went paler. "You can't be thinking about choosing my father as your guardian! He would hand you over to Voldemort in one beat of your heart."

"That's true. But there has to be some law or rules about protection... or?"

Both Malfoys looked at one another in something akin to shock.

"That's right, but it still is not safe. I would not suggest you carrying through with that idea. It's better to be under Dumbledore's control, than to be handed to Voldemort on a plate like a stuffed bird!"

"There's where I need your help. Despite what you say, you know more about the Wizarding World than you care to say. You can be there to help me."

"What does he get out of this?" Draco Malfoy said.

Harry smiled causing the boy to back up; he would have asked that same question.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I'm in a locked room 21 hours of the day." Marcius said with a frown. "Try as I might, I will not be able to break out, or use magic."

Harry smiled and gestured to the band. His magic poured forth from his finger. The very air seemed to be electrocuted by the force Harry threw into his magic. He used electricity too, but was more inclined to use unfamiliar forces.

He didn't realize how hard it was to destroy the annoying thing. When it had irritated him, he had not been able to do anything to alleviate the nuisance. He had never tried to destroy it. He was sure that even though he did not destroy his, he would be able to destroy someone else's.

He poured more and more magic into what he was doing. Marcius was stunned by Harry attacking his band, but he remained perfectly still. Harry was sure that it was not causing Marcius any pain. Slowly it began to change before their eyes. The band turned slowly from silver to a milky-white. Harry felt beads of sweat slipping down his forehead.

Finally, the band slowly disintegrated right before their very eyes. There was a stunned silence.

As Marcius made to thank Harry, the magic in the air flared. Harry and Marcius were thrown away from one another with an explosion of light. Harry landed on the floor next to the other Malfoy. His head hit the floor hard, but not hard enough to knock him completely unconscious. With his powers, he did what he could to dull the pain, but he noticed that he had over-used his powers by removing the band.

He felt someone pull him off of the ground. There was a hustle as someone went through his pockets. Harry was stunned and could not do anything to thwart the person. He merely brought his hand to his pocket. He tried to open his eyes.

"Harry!" Harry recognized that voice immediately.

"Marner..." And then there was darkness and the silence that it brought.

"Well, that's Harry for you." Harry awoke at the use of his name. It was Marner.

"Does he always do things like that, blindly without thinking about the consequences?" Someone asked. Marcius Malfoy, Harry assumed.

"No, sometimes I wonder if he has the ability to see into the future. And then there are times like now, when I wonder how he's managed to get along this far with only a few beatings and scratches!"

"I have to wonder if his family dropped him on his head!" A voice said snidely. Harry growled mentally.

"I would be careful with what you say to Harry Potter about his family, or you might just end up in the same position as they are."

"And where are they?"

"Dead, murdered by him. Why do you think he was put in the croaker?"

"Harry Potter murdered someone!"

"Your world really doesn't know what Harry did to his family. I thought the judge was lying." Marner said astounded.

"Our world is ignorant to many things, Harry's just one of the most dangerous." Marcius said.

"I'm not dangerous." Harry murmured attempting to open his eyes.

He had a headache that was to be reckoned with.

The room was instantly silent as Harry announced that he was awake.

"So, you do live." Marner said sarcastically. His face was full of worry as he loomed over Harry.

"Of course I live, you idiot. I'm too young and pretty to die." Harry said trying to sit up.

Marner snorted. "If you say so." Harry slipped and fell back into the bed like a limp doll. "Hey, slow, take it slow. Do you want to end up in the hospital on your first day of freedom? I know you love the male-nurses like I do, but you can see them when your healthy too, you know." He laughed.

Harry growled. "When I get better, you are the first on my revenge list."

"Since when have you made a revenge list?"

"Since I met you, and you've been moving from second to third place and back again ever since."

"Well, it's good to be first one someone's list!" Marner said, putting a wet towel over Harry's face.

"Just, shut up."

"Yes, Mr. Boy-Who-Lived!" He shook with laughter.

Harry made a mental note to embarrass him as much as possible whenever he got chance.

"So, how do we go on from here?" Harry heard Marcius. "I can't go walking the streets now that I've escaped. And I cannot just go waltzing up to father asking for charity, could you imagine that!"

"You can stay here with me, if you need to." Marner said. His voice laden with something Harry could not describe. He laughed mentally; it was hesitant but wanting at the same time. _My dear Marner is smitten_!

"That's a very nice offer, but I must-."

"No, I think Marner is right." Harry said sitting up slightly. "Until the heat dies down, you should stay here."

"Harry, lay down!" Marner was back to mothering him

Harry shot him a look that made him take a step back. Harry took a good look around him. They were in a shabby apartment. Harry had always assumed that Marner was a typical gay guy just without the mannerisms. He had no lisp, no stereotypical walk, and didn't dress effeminately, minus the cloud of cologne that followed him from time to time.

His apartment was no better of a sign that he was gay than his disposition. He had beer bottles on the table, a television on the sports channel (which Draco Malfoy was enticed by), worn furniture, dingy walls, and other telltale signs of a bachelor pad. There was nothing brightly coloured, fuzzy, girlish or even outrageously masculine to hit the fact that he was gay.

_Weird_.

Harry took that all in with a slightly raised eyebrow and a nonchalant shrug at the end.

He roughly removed Marner's mothering hands with a death glare and sat up on the dingy couch.

He sat and he thought.

If the Wizarding world was in anyway clever, they would have detectors of some sort to tell them that someone used magic somewhere, especially if someone broke one of their band things.

He turned to Marcius, who continually cast coy looks at Marner, rolled his eyes, and coughed slightly into his hand.

"So, Marcius," Marcius jumped ever so slightly, "you will stay here." The man opened his mouth to argue, but Harry was not finished. "You are an escaped, magical convict. The best place for you to hide is at the residence of a non-magical law official; no one would expect that." He dismissed anything the man was going to say with a wave of his hand.

He turned his attention to Draco, "Do you know of any magical words ("spells!"), whatever, that can block people from knowing where we are?"

Draco smirked at him. "Of course, I'm very knowle-," Harry cut him off.

"Good, get to working on that."

Draco smirked menacingly. "You freed him, Potter. It's your neck they will be after."

Harry narrowed his eyes and stood up. He did not tower over the guy, but it did have an intimidating effect on him. "I was not the only one to use magic if I remember correctly."

Before Draco could respond or retort, Harry turned his attention back to Marcius, "How do wizards track magic?"

The man clicked his tongue as he understood where Harry was going with his argument. "They track all underage wizards' wands until they reach adulthood, and all wizards with a criminal background." He threw Draco an apologetic look. "They can also trace huge eruptions of wandless magic along with that of magic with a wand as well."

Harry sat down again. "So it's highly possible that they already know about the explosion, also that I was there because I used my powers, signed my name and people recognized me, and that I freed you as you are obviously not there anymore." Marcius blinked in surprise but nodded nonetheless. "And since that dunce used his wand against me, they will think that he was in on the gig, and we together broke you out." Draco opened his mouth but closed it instantly as he realized what position he was in.

Once again Marcius nodded in astonishment. "SO," Harry continued cleaning dirt from under his nails and pretending not to see the exchange of looks at the depth of his analytical abilities. "They will most likely be monitoring Draco under the impression that they will find me and you."

"So how am I supposed to cast spells that hide where we are, by the time I do that they will have already locate-."

Harry interrupted him again, this time snarling. "I was getting there." Instantly he cooled, his magic pacifying him thoroughly. "You can tell me how you do it with a wand, and I will do it myself. They won't be able to trace it until it is too late, or if I use too much power."

Draco nodded stiffly and pulled out his wand. _Which he took from my pocket when I was unconscious, the blinking pussy_!

"Hmm. Do you think it would be quicker if you do to Draco what you do with me?" Marner said suddenly and curiously.

Harry looked at him. They nodded in unison, understanding their mental connection.

The Malfoys looked at the two of them in confusion, Draco in slight aversion.

"What Marner means is 'mental communication'." Harry explained.

Marcius inhaled sharply, and then shook his head in astonishment. "A natural Legismens Master. Unbelievable, or believable as I'm starting to figure out." He smiled. "If you were trained, you would be one of the most mentally, impenetrable wizards in the world."

Harry smirked at him. "This is why you are here."

Draco was not easily persuaded into giving Harry free range within his mind. After several minutes of being convinced by his brother in English and in French, Harry had long since accepted that the Wizarding aristocracy spoke French, Draco hesitantly agreed.

Harry hoped that the connection could be built just like his with Marner. Harry had made the connection with Marner in a desperate time. He was close to being raped and beaten to a pulp in the bathroom. He knew that Marner would help him, but he had (at that time) no way of getting him alone and talking to him. So when they had been at a close proximity, Harry simply willing his magic to allow him to talk to Marner mentally and tell him of the guys' plan.

The results had been hilarious. Marner nearly fell out of his seat. Harry had already shown him that he had magical abilities, but Marner was not expecting telepathic abilities as well.

Draco crossed his arms in defiance and waited for Harry. Harry could practically feel Draco's fear, the worry and the curiosity. Harry rolled his eyes to hide his own doubt. He had no clue what to do, and how he should carry out this magical act.

He walked slowly up to Draco, ignoring the defensive flinch the boy gave when he stood a foot away from him. "You ready?"

"Just do it, Potter." He sighed. Harry wondered briefly why exactly the boy was agreeing to this, what exactly he was getting out of it. The suspicion made him hesitate slightly before he proceeded.

He placed his hands on the opposite sides of Draco's head, and, ignoring the shivers of discomfort that went through both of them; Harry willed his magic to allow him to communicate mentally with Draco.

He felt his skin tingle as his pulse sprung to life. Never before had he felt his magic so strong and so under his control. It was glorious. If he didn't have a task to do he would have enjoyed it longer.

Draco inhaled deeply and opened his eyes in amazement. Harry felt his breath hitch slightly as he felt his magic call forth Draco's and they met in an array of colors, feelings, memories, sounds. The nice feeling remained for a few moments before suddenly disappearing.

Like two previously caged and ravenous animals, Harry's magic and Draco's magic pounced on each other and seemed to be willing to fight to the death for absolute dominance. Harry figured it had something to do with the defensiveness of Draco's magic.

"Relax," Harry commanded. Draco sighed angrily and apparently complied after a few moments. Harry closed his eyes, getting lost in the feeling of active magic.

Harry was not sure how long they stayed there in that position, Harry with his hands on both sides of Draco's head. There came a point where Draco's magic became so weak that Harry no longer actively used his magic.

Draco's magic then receded within him. Harry could feel it retreating, almost like an predator in defeat. Harry's seemed to linger as if to check for errors or to show dominance.

The feeling of content and magical expansion into each other and their surroundings returned.

_Wow_. A slightly distant but familiar voice echoed in his mind. Harry agreed with it without hesitation.

_You can say that again._

In a flash, both of their eyes flew open. Draco slumped slightly like a puppet cut free from the strings holding it upright. Harry, almost slumping over himself, reacted immediately and held Draco up by his shoulders.

He guided him slowly to the nearest couch, which had somehow slid towards them to meet them halfway.

"I didn't say anything out loud, Potter." Draco murmured gutturally as Harry lowered him onto the couch.

_You didn't have to_. Harry thought with a grin.

Draco jumped violently, giving Harry an unnecessarily hard shove away from him. Draco gave a brief shout as he tumbled forward with the momentum he used to push Harry.

Harry took a hard fall onto his bottom. He noticed immediately how weak he also felt. Normally his reflexes were quicker and more prepared for things like stumbles, falls, and tripping.

After he unsteadily righted himself, he noticed how devoid the room was of life and how destroyed the room was. Paint was pealing off of the walls in clusters. The beams in the ceiling were showing their brownish wood. The furniture, except the piece that Draco was sitting on, was destroyed beyond recognition.

"Hello?" He called out.

There was a moment of undisturbed silence.

Draco barely stirred on the couch. Harry walked out of Marner's living room to see that both Marner and Marcius had disappeared. The telly in Marner's bedroom was on. Harry toned out the newscaster's annoyingly nasal voice until he subconsciously caught the newscaster saying the date.

His mind went blank.

He stumbled back into the living room, feeling for the first time an extraordinary hunger and absolute fatigue that plagued his body.

Draco lay strewn over the couch, no longer in the slight sitting stance that Harry had left him in earlier.

"Malfoy! What day did you go to visit your broth-?" Harry's voice broke just has it had moments before.

Draco lolled him head in Harry's direction, looking rather annoyed. "Potter, what nonsense-." His weak and unused voice said volumes to Harry.

"Malfoy, shut up." Harry collapsed exhausted onto the couch next to Draco.

Malfoy looked up at him slightly worried. Harry noticed for the first time that the windows gave witness to the nighttime life in London.

"We've been out for a week." Harry stated slightly in agony.

"Not- possible- no food- water- die." Draco slurred.

_Perfect bloody way to die_. Harry wasn't sure which one of them thought that as he was sure they both were thinking it. He agreed nonetheless before he passed out.


	8. Chapter 8

_**On the Fly**_

Lying flat on his back, Harry abruptly awoke to the agitated hum of his own magic buzzing furiously in his ears. The rapid beating of his heart and feeling of his magic expanding, partially on his subconscious command, forced him to assess his predicament.

He felt drowsy and immediately uncomfortable.

Several terrible situations flew through his mind, and he was on his guard before he even opened his eyes to take in his surroundings.

_What the fuck happened?_

As he opened his eyes, white lights instantly blinded him.

"The magical outburst… overload… to them..." The _ping_ of a soft voice reached him as he adjusted to waking up.

"Absolutely destroyed… utterly… nothing heard… confounded." A deep male voice followed.

"Magical signatures… two disappeared… seen and registered." Another male added.

Harry strained to hear their conversation. Everything was a chirr that composed of whispering, as Harry assumed the individuals were doing, and odd small sounds that he could not place.

Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped in his head, Harry heard nothing. He felt as if something should be registering in his ears, but with was nothing. His magic shuddered as if it were trying to fix his hearing, and Harry involuntarily mimicked the motion physically.

"Did you see that? Bloody hell, I think he just moved." Another voice, this one also belonging to a man, said. "You said he wouldn't wake for at least a few days due to the physical and magical exhaustion."

Harry immediately closed his eyes and steadied his breath. If there was one thing he was good at, it was trying to fool people. He had to do it to guards and inmates at Sirkins. As if a mild wind breezed through him, his mind cleared, his magic calmed, and his breathing slowed.

He could feel the pulse of foreign magic around him. It reminded him of something that he saw in a movie once, a disturbance in the force. His magic and mind both went in panic mode.

It was obvious to him that wizards surrounded him.

He went cold.

_Malfoy?_ He called out mentally. Memories of Draco's famished and thirsty frame filled his mind. He felt a disgusting urge to get up, find, and assist the boy, but managed to push those down and merely called out to the blond mentally.

He repeated that several times with no avail.

He knew that Draco should be able to respond, but he was sure that there was nothing else that he could do.

He could feel Draco's magic, a perk of the magic they performed together he assumed, but his magic could not pick up Marner or Marcius.

Harry felt ridiculous for a moment, as if he were a radar or location device.

Someone approached the side of his bed. Harry willed his magic to make him appear to be asleep. He felt himself instantly relax as magic pulsed slowly through him, steadying his blood and breathing, as well as removing his ability to move.

There was a _whoosh _as the person above him waved something, _most likely their wand_, over his head. Harry desperately wanted to rip his eyes open and catch the person in the act, but he decided it would be in his best interest to summon his magic and allow it to heal him. He needed to be fit and prepared to attack if necessary.

There was a moment of silence around him where the foreign magic, like a thin sheet of silky fabric, settled slowly on his body after the person said some weird words. Simultaneously, he felt his multitasking magic instinctively fire up around his body to protect it, pulse inside his body to heal him, and prepare to strike if anything happened.

Harry was nervous for the first time in a long time. Though he had managed successfully, and with laughable ease, to overpower Malfoy, he decided not to try his luck with four adult wizards. He was not sure if he was at that level yet.

"Well, is he asleep?" The gruff, almost familiar male voice asked.

The woman standing above him responded, "My wand-readings say that he is indeed asleep… At least his body is, but his internal magical activity is off the roof."

A calming, grandfather-like voice came suddenly from the other side of where Harry lay. "That, I believe, is a natural side-effect to removing a Magical Band. His magic is unbound and testing its limits. It is mostly likely searching for Mr. Malfoy."

"Albus, wouldn't it be wise to put another band on him then? It would be a small precaution to ensure his safety _and_ that of those around him." The woman next to Harry said. "Depending on the nature and strength of their bond, his magic could be aggressive with anyone in its way to Mr. Malfoy."

Harry heard her and Albus, who Harry instantly deemed was Albus Dumbledore, move away from his bed. He ended his sleep-act and attempted to assess the condition of his body.

He could wiggle his fingertips and toes.

"Harry has accomplished the unimaginable by destroying not just one band, but harnessing his magic while wearing another. I do not believe it would be effective, or necessary."

"The boy is a danger, Albus," The gruff man said. "He's maimed, killed - he's a _criminal_. You never give a criminal the chance to get free."

"Alastor, I could not disagree more. You do not know the details of his past _transgressions_."

The man, Alastor, huffed.

"What about young Malfoy? Their bond surely must have increased his magical abilities," another woman said. "His magic would most likely be in a similar state."

"That is an assumption only time can verify."

Harry only half listened to the conversation that followed. There was talk of a Wizagemot and a Ministry/Minister of Magic that Harry could not decipher, but nevertheless stored for later reflection, hopefully with Marcius or Malfoy. He learned that he and Malfoy were located in a secure section of a Wizarding hospital, St. Mungos. He stopped listening altogether when the conversation turned to the topic of some organization called the Order.

His body was in fair condition. He felt no pain anywhere, though there was a slight numbness in his stomach. He assumed that those in charge had done something to take care of his hunger and thirst.

Harry was jolted back into the conversation by the mention of illegal activity.

"Albus, that could be misconstrued as _kidnapping_!" His magic registered two people hovering near Malfoy's bed. Dumbledore and the other woman stood in between the two beds.

"Minerva, it's necessary to keep Harry and Mr. Malfoy together because of their bond and also to have them under the surveillance of the Order, now that his historic return is plastered on the front page of most newspapers. The story of his childhood will be national controversy as well within a week."

"Albus, Hogwarts reopened two days ago," the woman said, "do you honestly believe that Lucius Malfoy will accept that his son disappeared without a trace, only to return to the Wizarding World, to _Hogwarts_, weeks after its reopening without contacting him? Sorry, but I do not take him for green!"

Dumbledore sighed. "We have no other choice. You know that by international law both must attend the magical institution designated by their guardians until they have taken their NEWTS. Technically they should be in the infirmary at Hogwarts right now, but the situation necessitated the expertise of the Healers here."

Harry followed along to the best of his ability, but he was completely at lost. _NEWTS? My guardian? Isn't Marner my guardian? I'm sure he did not agree to send me anywhere. Where is he? I have to find him too, before they do._

"Malfoy will bring the full force of the Ministry, the Wizagemot, and the Board of Governors upon you. You already are on thin ice as it is, what with that toad Umbridge." The man with the rough voice growled.

Someone coughed politely.

"They will be moved to headquarters as soon as they awaken," Dumbledore said with such firmness that Harry nearly believed in the indisputability of the event.

Harry grew impatient after he called for Malfoy again. A possible reason for Malfoy's lack of response came to him suddenly. _He must be sleeping, the bastard! _With that in mind, he angrily sent out his magic to wake the blond up.

A subtle sensation rolled through him this time as his magic returned back to him, almost like a sonar response.

He frowned. He sent his magic out again and felt something blocking his path to the blond. His magic reacted before he could think twice, and tore to shreds whatever was obstructing his passage to Draco.

_Potter!? _Harry heard Malfoy's voice ring with uncertainty in his mind.

_It's about fucking time you wake up!_ _I've been calling to you for half an hour._

_I wasn't sleeping, you bloody dunce! I couldn't respond,_ Draco snapped. _They put a spell on us to damper the bond._

Before he could respond, the people in the room hurriedly went away from Harry towards, what he assumed was, Malfoy's bed.

Harry took the opportunity to open his eyes and look around. The blinding, burning feeling in his eyes left almost as quickly as it came. His magic assisted his vision and the stiffness of his limbs. He slowly sat up.

There was no one around him, and a sheet separated his side of the room from Malfoy's.

_Malfoy, they are headed your way. Pretend like you are asleep! They won't be able to tell._

_Potter! They have spells to figure such things out, if you haven't noticed._

Harry wanted to strangle the idiot.

"Mr. Malfoy, there is no need to try to fool us into thinking that you are resting. We know that you are indeed awake."

_Bloody Fuck_.

Harry silently slid out of the hospital bed. He was in hospital clothes and quickly spotted his proper clothes on a bedside table. He used his magic to switch them with his hospital clothes instantly. He noted briefly that his clothes had been cleaned before he summoned his magic to him. The candles around him blew out, and the light that seemed to come out of the walls flickered.

"Unhand me, you ape! My father will hear about this, Dumbledore!" Draco yelled. His voice was brittle from lack of use.

"This is for your own -."

"_Silencio, Immobulus_."

…

Harry paused. He did not know what they did to Malfoy, but he was no longer screaming in his girly, high-pitched voice, and that was a cause for celebration and worry.

"Alastor, was that necessary?" Dumbledore asked.

_Malfoy, are you okay? Is there any way to just leave this room? Malfoy!_

_I'm fine, you bloody idiot. And no, we can't leave, they have wards everywhere._

_Wards, what are wards?_

Malfoy tried to explain, but Harry was impatient and frustrated. He needed the information that very instant. His magic responded in a rush.

Information from books and conversations pertaining to wards crashed through his mind as his magic gathered the information Malfoy had pertaining to wards. The tidal wave of info rammed his mind like a bull- a group of bulls. Harry was stunned that he was able to see information that Malfoy without having to ask for it.

Harry shook off his surprise and formed a quick plan in his head as he noticed the window at the end of the long room.

_Potter, hurry! They are making a Portkey!_

Harry had no clue what a Portkey was, and it did not sound good to him at all, but he had no interest in figuring out what it was. With his head pounding slightly from the last rush of information, he decided against pulling information from the blond's mind again.

He used his magic to toss everything out of his path. Beds, equipment, bottles flew with the utmost speed. There were only two beds separating him from Draco.

He came up with a plan as he went. Step one; he needed to cause a brief distraction.

Four people, in various ages had their wands pointed at him as he marched purposely through his own path of destruction towards them. His magic flared at the item the oldest person, Dumbledore held in his hand, a sock. His magic could sense that it was not just a normal sock.

There was a miniature explosion from which Dumbledore was barely able to escape.

"Harry!" Dumbledore exclaimed while clutching and healing his bleeding hand.

"Albus!" The older woman cried rushing over to him, her wand still trained on Harry.

"Mr. Potter, please get back in bed!" A middle-aged brunette in an old-fashioned nursing outfit said nervously, coming towards him as if to subdue him.

Harry advanced without stopping, though wounding Dumbledore struck him as oddly pleasing.

He threw magic at Draco, reversing whatever done to him by the others.

_Get my wand, Potter!_

Harry called Malfoy's wand to him. In a blink of an eye, it ripped away from a facially deformed man and flew into Harry's hands.

Harry's magic and body dodged the beams of colors that were now being sent at him.

He swiped his hand at his opponents and sent literally every item in the room at them, including a screaming Malfoy.

_This better work_, he thought as he looked the windows.

He called the thrown Malfoy to him as he ran towards the window jumping over and dodging spells.

He removed the glass pane of the window, looked down briefly at the ant-sized cars on the street. He turned back as a multitude of spells passed him and flew through the window. He felt the cold autumn air on his back as he stepped backwards towards the window. He never noticed the window frame enlarging itself from floor to ceiling to let him through.

Time seemed to slow down. Malfoy rammed into him, knocking them both slightly backwards through the window frame. Harry wrapped an arm around the blond and balanced them both on the window ledge. The look of panic that flashed across the faces of the wizards was pleasing.

_What? Did they expect me to go easily?_

He shoved Malfoy's wand into the boy's hands and called his magic forth immediately to handle the final spells sent at him. A bright gold shimmer appeared in front of him. The four spells hit the glowing shell with such force that Harry and Malfoy toppled backwards out of the window as Harry's magic returned the window to its original state with glass and all.

Falling from such a height had to be the most frighteningly exhilarating thing Harry had ever done. He had never felt so free, so unrestrained, and yet so much in danger.

As the ground rapidly neared, his magic swelled around both him and the screaming blond. _Take us somewhere safe_. For the first time, his magic was confused. Harry felt it waver before it struck Malfoy. Harry saw a picture of a blonde woman enter his mind as his magic struck surrounded them.

Suddenly, the warm, hard ground was beneath him. He realized moments later that he was not on the sidewalk but a dark marble floor. There had been no contact with the ground that they had just been heading toward a deadly speed.

He was still in one piece and obviously alive. He had one moment of peace before he fell in pain.

He jumped up quickly into a sitting position. His suddenly whole body felt as if it were on fire. He groaned. His magic flared up dangerously, furiously attacking whatever was hurting him.

The candle flames above him on the walls were flickering. He could see Malfoy shouting in the background. He saw the blond get up with difficulty, take a few steps forward, and then fall forward before he closed his eyes in pain.

His magic did not manage to stop whatever was hurting him. It numbed him all over, but Harry could tell that it was tiring and quickly.

He heard Malfoy shout once again as he slowly opened his eyes.

An eloquent voice, like the falling of pearls, called back to Malfoy. "Draco, is that you, my dear?"

Harry watched, astonished, as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen came gliding- yet running- down the grandiose hallway. She took his breath away. Moving so quickly caused her robes to fly behind her and exposed the breathtaking outfit beneath. She wore the tightest form fitting, yet appropriate, white bodice with dress that showed every single curve of her perfect figure. Harry watched the bounce of her chest, knowing that his pants were growing tighter even if he could not feel them or his erection.

She stopped a few feet away from them, one eyebrow elegantly raised at Harry. He automatically raised one back; he could feel a challenge anywhere.

"Draco?" She asked looking at his son, but never letting her eyes leave Harry.

"The wards, mother. Hurts!" Draco pleaded without looking at back at Harry. The agony in his voice made Harry look at him

Beauty, as Harry adequately named her, immediately did something with her wand- a wand Harry had not noticed until then. His raunchy, pain-filled mind wandered briefly again, taking in her tasteful outfit.

She had on white heels. Harry was sure that diamonds laced her dress and ears, pearls graced her cleavage and hand, while her shoes seemed to be a mixture of both.

_Damn_. He knew he could never hope to afford any part of her. He shook himself slightly as the thought of her being a pricey call girl entered his mind. _Malfoy's mother, damn_.

Harry felt his magic relax. Harry released a relieved sigh as it retreated, something it never did. Normally it lingered to make sure everything remained in good condition. _It must be tired._ He felt physically what his magic felt.

Draco slumped forward. His mother quickly but gracefully bent down to help him. Harry bit his lip as he felt his penis twitch.

"Dobby!" She yelled suddenly. Harry jumped as the oddest, goggle-eyed creature appeared out of thin air with a loud _CRACK_. He felt his magic stir languidly, but it remained in its resting state.

The creature looked at Harry, his eyes flickering up to Harry's scar, before it gave an audible gasp. Harry shook his head to clear it. _Yoda? Does he actually exist?_

"Dobby, take Draco to the medical wing and care for him while I assist our _guest_." Harry did not like the manner in which she spat the word. It was as if something foul were on her tongue.

The creature nodded vigorously. Harry felt a slight dizziness come upon him as Dobby disappeared with the blond.

Harry quickly detached himself from the floor and steadied himself, all of which was done under the watchful gaze of Draco's mother.

She held a calm and graceful expression on her face. She reminded Harry of the dolls he had seen as a kid on the telly advertisements.

There was a moment where they looked at each other in silence. Harry could hear some rustling around them, but he did not dare to break the important staring contest that they were having.

With a blink and tilt of her head, the woman broke eye contact and murmured something slightly under her breath, which to Harry sounded like "impossible".

Harry noticed then that her wand was not pointed at him.

Before he could stop himself a question flew out of his mouth. "Why don't you have your wand thing pointed at me? As Dumbledore and the others did..."

Her eyebrow arched slightly at the mention of 'Dumbledore', but besides that there were no signs that his question had even registered in his mind.

"This manor has more protections than the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _combined_." She smirked. "I feel as comfortable as a basilisk in a unicorn clearing."

Harry blinked. He wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean but also realized quickly that he didn't care. _She is truly gorgeous with her confidence_.

"Lord Potter, may I show you to your guest rooms?" She said in a sickeningly sweet voice that sent a chill up Harry's spine and distracted him immediately from the pull of her charm.

"Lord Potter?" He asked, distancing himself from her slightly as she passed him with a swish of her robes.

She paused and turned around quickly, abandoning all suaveness. "Pardon me? Lord Potter, you mean to tell me that you do not know of you-" Her eyes flashed slightly, prompting Harry to take a step back. "So it _is_ true? The Daily Prophet…"

Harry leaned slightly on his back leg, putting more striking distance between him and the crazy woman. _I should have known that she was too pretty to be sane._

She paused, seeming to recognize how awkward the situation appeared. She shook her head slightly.

"I suppose no one has ever told you of your family, your seats of power, or your status within our world in the _muggle_ prison." She said this as she were talking about the weather, and beckoned to him to follow her.

She led him down a smartly lit and magnificent grand staircase. It was dripping with affluence. Harry felt absurdly out of place.

"Your family, Lord Potter, is of Ancient and Noble blood, as is ours." The clicking of her heels against the marble staircase annoyed him now to no end.

"I was told that there would be people desperate to have me under their influence for political reasons." He stated.

She tilted her head back slightly and the easiest bell of laughter slid from her throat. "I'm sure they included the name of our family on that list."

Harry didn't answer, which was an answer in itself.

She turned to him her bosom lifted slightly, _on purpose_. "Just between you and me, Lord Potter, I wouldn't trust anyone in the Wizarding World. Those who you trust are most likely planning your downfall; your blood kin are most likely trying to steal from you, kill you, or both; and those you think you _love_ are merely using you." She was growling by the end of her little monologue.

_Damn, she must be having some deep marital issues._

Harry grinned at her. "I don't even trust myself."

"Good man." She said patting him lightly on the arm. The twitch in his pants returned.

She turned and led him down a hallway with oak flooring that was not as decorated as the previous ones but held a regality to it that did not necessitate glitz and glamor of polish white marble.

Harry noticed for the first time the gold-framed paintings with moving figures and animals on the wall. He stopped to look at a familiar-looking one. _It can't be_!

Draco's mother noticed the lack of his following footsteps. She observed briefly the painting that had captured his attention so completely.

"Yes, that would be your great-great-great grandfather Patrick Potter. The Potter men generally look very much alike; I believe there is some sort of blood enchantment on the lineage."

"Why is he hanging up in your house?" Harry murmured.

To his surprise, it was the painting, not Draco's mother, who responded. "I was considered too dark for the likes of the Family Counsel to hang in the Potter Manor house, merely for my marrying of a young woman of the Malfoy line."

Harry absorbed that information, swallowed his shock, and nodded to the man in the painting who looked like his mirror-image.

"Most of the pureblooded families in Britain share some blood kinship. Not that many of the 'light' families will admit to this, especially with regards to us 'dark' families."

_Sounds like some weird form of racism._

"Come, Lord Potter, you may speak with your relations after I've shown you your chambers and before we dine together."

She led Harry to a hardwood door that had to be twice as large as he was tall. On an impulse, he reached out and touched the door.

He pulled back as the door suddenly moved, and his mouth hit the polished floor as he took in _his_ chambers.

"You are more than welcome, just as our common ancestor, to reside in the manor for as long as the Lord of the manor offers his hospitality." Her voice strained ever so slightly. "Due to pressing engagements, my lord cannot personally welcome you, but I do, as his lady, on his behalf."

It all sounded like the dialogue of a really proper, and dry, Victorian novel. _It must be some weird welcoming ceremony in their Wizarding culture._

"Do you, Lord Potter, accept these chambers?" Harry tore his eyes from the magnificent crystal chandelier that did not hang from a chain but _floated _several feet above the expensive and exquisite looking furniture.

"Yes, I do… Lady Malfoy." He blinked as a flash of light surrounded them and disappeared just as quickly as it came.

He raised an eyebrow.

"It is tradition amongst the Ancient and Noble Houses to insure the safety and enjoyment of guests. There was once a time when each manor was its own fortress and all of the Houses were at war. Should a member of one House visit another, the host offered hospitality and also demanded a treaty to insure that the guest did not harm their family. The guest was also granted the same safety from any malicious intent the family might have." She wrinkled her nose.

Harry made a small noise of understanding.

"Should I or Draco visit the Potter Manor, it is tradition that you do so as well." She stated as if warning a child not to run with scissors.

_Wait, what?_

Harry was filled suddenly with questions. He managed to gain control over his mouth before anything unfiltered slipped out. He considered his next words wisely; they had to cover many of the previous questions that flew through his mind.

"Potter Manor? Forgive me, but I was not even aware this magical community existed a few weeks ago, let alone the fact that I belong to it. Where exactly is this _manor_?" He faced her completely.

His demeanor spoke volumes on calmness and composure. He used that pose and tone at Sirkins, when dealing with people who wanted to get a rise out of him, especially the guards.

"Gringotts, our Wizarding bank, should be able to assist you with claiming rights and privileges bestowed on you from the Last testaments of your parents."

Donning on his most pretentious voice, a la the tone that he remembered Malfoy using all of the time with him, he asked, "Would you be willing, Lady Malfoy, to accompany me? It would be a great assistance to me."

She appeared lightly surprised, for the time exhibiting a genuine emotion in front of Harry. "I'm sure I can fit that into my schedule for tomorrow-."

"Are they closed today?" He asked slowly, not knowing what day of the week it was or what types of business hours offices in the Wizarding world had.

"No, but dinner shall be served so-." She attempted to regain her composure, but Harry was not having any of that.

He had a very simple plan running through his mind. It began with throwing her off balance, followed by sleeping with her, and finally uses her fornication as blackmail should she or her family try to do to him.

"How soon?" He drawled, taking a slightly exaggerated step in her direction ended mere inches from touching her.

Her breath hitched slightly. He looked down at her legs, working his eyes slowly up her body.

"In an hour's time." She murmured.

Harry closed the door soundlessly with his magic before stepping away from the woman, her tensed body instantly relaxed since he no longer invaded her space.

He took a seat on a velvety Victorian chair and beckoned her to the seat next to his. Eluding confidence in every motion and every syllable, he spoke as she walked to him with uncertain tainting her attempt at composure.

"My knowledge of the Wizarding world is limited. Maybe you could fill in some of the gaps in the next hour?" Harry saw a flash of power, lust, and acceptance of his challenge in her eyes.

She sat slowly, leaning forward slightly and showing off her bosom. Her robe disappeared suddenly, reappearing on a hook near the door. She slowly crossed one leg over the other, showing off her flawless, ivory skin.

Harry wasn't sure how long he ogled her, but he regained his senses as she confidently and softly laid one hand on his thigh, a gleam seductive in her eye.

"Dinner might have to wait another hour; there is a lot to cover." Harry's penis twitched erect.

_She thinks she has me wrapped up in her power!_ She squeezed his thigh slightly forcing him to shift. Her hand managed to reach his inner thigh; she squeezed again forcing Harry to bite back a moan.

"The oldest of the Ancient and Noble houses trace their lineages back more than a millennium. The Potters were one of the first, descending directly from the bloodline of King Arthur in the 6th century. Rumor states that the Potters call his unplottable and legendary Tintagel Castle home…" She said as she removed her hand and straightened out her dress as if nothing had happened. "No Malfoy has ever crossed its threshold to confirm the rumors. And those who have, find themselves unable to recall it because of the secrecy charms and enchantments."

Harry absorbed what she said while mentally taking every single item of her clothing off slowly.

_Letting her have control this once won't hurt. I'll get the upper hand after she's in my bed._


	9. Chapter 9

_**Of Malfoys and literature**_

_He crawled on his belly. Something was wrong; he could feel it, almost taste it in the very air around him. There was something dangerous moving about, and it was after him._

_He moved quickly. He went over rocks and earth as if it were his normal means of transportation. He realized soon that he was moving far too quick through the brush for someone on hands and knees. He noticed then that he slithered, not crawled._

_With that revelation, though still slightly fearful of his surroundings, he paused. He swung his head around and was mildly surprised to see a snake tail waving back at him._

_As he turned around to move on, he was suddenly surrounded by a mass of snakes of all different types on all sides. He coiled into a ball, ready to pounce at any given moment to defend himself._

_Instead of ambushing him, the snakes all seem to approach him in respect and wonder. He did not understand their collective, almost melodic hissing, but he could ascertain that there was no harm to be expected from them. He could almost see the look of sorrow, reverence and fierce loyalty in their eyes._

_He inched toward them and by means of some soft hissing inquired why they were agitated._

_In unison they hissed, "The Dark Lord nears."_

_Before Harry could wrap his mind around what they were saying or the fact that he understood them, his tongue caught the tangy scent of a danger in the air once more. He started forward, trying to slither his way through the mass of snakes._

_He stopped as he realized none were facing him, rather they were all hissing furiously towards one point._

_Harry felt a sharp pain in his head, and his tongue ached from the amount of peril it was sensing. _

_There was a tug at his tail. In a second, Harry bared his fangs as he swung around to bite his attacker. He stopped in mid-strike. There was a feeble garden snake, pulling at his tail with haste._

"_He must not find you!" It hissed in a tiny voice._

_Harry followed the little one out of impulse. He looked back as his body allowed the little one to guide him._

_Snakes continued arriving from all sides, hundreds of them, and they congregated at the one point Harry had just vacated._

_Harry noticed soon that a massive fight was taking place. He saw mangled and shredded bodies of snakes fly in all directions. Some large beast growled in frustration and anger._

_Moribund water flowed down the length of his back._

"_Where are you, Potter? You can't hide forever!" Harry saw disembodied, furious red eyes rise slowly above the wall of snakes. They looked around quickly in all directions before settling on Harry's retreating figure, with a dark flash of recognition and malice they narrowed._

Harry awoke in a full sweat. He immediately checked his body for any involuntary serpentine metamorphosis.

He shivered slightly, though not because of any coldness.

He hadn't had nightmares in years, some bad or odd ones, yes, but not actual nightmares of that caliber.

He detangled and detached himself from the sticky wet sheets. He grinned slightly as he caught the distracting whiff of Lady Malfoy's perfume. She had religiously frequented his bed in the guest wing of her husband's manor. _And she fucked me senseless!_

He groaned slightly as the nightmare's influence on his body caught up with him, as well as other _feats_ he managed last night.

_If Draco only knew some of the things I've been doing to his mother!_

She and Harry maintained an alibi of "magical re-education" to keep Draco from suspecting anything. He was actually complimented by the fact that he knew more than Harry and did not have to partake in these lessons on the "ways of the Wizarding World."

There had been some close calls over the last three days since their arrival where Draco almost caught his mother leaving Harry's room at some ungodly hour. Harry managed to evade Draco's nosey mental attempts by regurgitating information from the memories he stole from Draco on Wizarding politics.

He was continuously saved by fortune.

"Bollucks!" He growled as he tripped over a chair in the dark.

"hu-Wha- Who goes there?" The portrait hanging over the dark marble mantel grumbled.

Harry waved his hand igniting the candles on the floating chandelier, showing himself to the disgruntled man. The man in portrait nodded, noticeably irritated, before dosing off again.

He sat down slowly on the chair he had just abused with his foot, hoping to ease the pain gathering right above his left temple. He gave it a slight massage, calling on his magic to soothe it.

He climbed back into his bed to in an attempt to go back to sleep. The clock on the wall said it was six past three in the morning.

The last time he had a nightmare was three years ago, and it had come true…twice. He learned to heed warnings even if he did not understand them.

He needed to figure out what the dream meant. It seemed very straightforward. _I'm going to turn into a snake and Voldemort is actively searching for my ass._

He wondered who or what the other snakes represented. Someone else was trying to protect him. He also took into account the fact that this nightmare could reflect some past, future or present situation. In any case, he just had to keep his eyes open extra wide.

_And the fact that I spoke and understood the snakes…_

There had been one incident with a snake that someone had lovingly left in his room at Sirkins. He never questioned how it got there or how it understood him, but he had told it not to bite him and go away, and it did so. That snake did not talk back to him though.

His mind swam with musings.

After several minutes of futilely trying to sleep, he re-detached himself from his bed and decided to venture out of his room for a bit.

As soon as he reached the door, odd warmth struck him. It permeated from the other side of the door.

He summoned his magic in a second and sent it to see what awaited him on the other side of the door. Despite the fact that Lady Malfoy guaranteed him safety within the manor, he refused to be taken by surprise anywhere. Especially with Lord Malfoy being a dedicated servant of the man who is trying to find and kill Harry.

His magic responded like a bat's echo. According to it, Draco Malfoy was sleeping on the other side of this door. He opened it and confirmed the reading. The blond was nestled in his doorframe

"Draco!" He yelled waking the boy up.

He stepped to the side as the boy tumbled into the room.

Harry briefly considered asking why the boy was sleeping in his doorframe, but his mind made the necessary connections for him.

"Is it that bad?" He asked the blushing boy who refused to meet his eyes.

"Potter, I don't-." Harry reached down and grabbed the blond.

He pulled the boy to his feet, yanking him more aggressively than he had planned. "Sorry," he caught the flying blond. He gave a lopsided grin.

"I just needed a few moments- you know…" Harry thought back to their last conversation pertaining to the bonding.

Draco had taken it upon himself to research the bond as much as possible in his family's library. He found that centuries ago two Noble and Ancient Families accidentally created the bond. It was to ensure that their arranged marriages were sure to bring children, created the bond that he and Draco had accidentally forged. It forced the two betrothed to seek the company of the other, linked their minds and magic, linked their families.

Harry nearly shat himself as Draco explained the situation to him. Fortunate for him, Draco's hand had been magically given to some girl before his birth. _Pantsy, Panty, or something like that._

Harry was happy to not have to worry about any matrimony. Not only was marriage an alien concept for him, he was similarly disinterested in men.

Draco's arranged marriage was sealed with magical oaths and was valid until the death of one or both betrothed. Any breach of the contract could warrant the lost of magic, hinder reproduction with any other person, or lead to death depending on the severity. Apparently, the bond with Harry was interfering with the outstanding marriage contract, causing Draco pain._  
_  
Harry shook his head as he closed the door to his room and met Draco on the bed. The Wizarding World was so backward and medieval. Unwillingly, he felt slight sympathy for Draco, who was obviously homosexual, despite what his parents wanted to believe. He would be forced into an unwanted relationship with someone, who, in his own world, was a "fat cow," because it was obligatory for him to carry on the family's name.

He had surprised the blond by knowing and being understanding of his sexuality. Harry had to be frank with Draco when he felt the blond becoming sexually interested in him. _All of the horny vibes coming off of him were a bit discomforting._

Draco had merely nodded and accepted the rejection, obviously embarrassed.

"May I just lay here for a bit?" The blood asked in a tired and soft voice. Harry was slightly disgusted by how weak he made the blond feel. "I just couldn't sleep."

Harry sighed. He wanted to say 'no,' but he was not blind to how pale Draco was. _I can't believe that the bond – my magic – is doing this to him_.

According to Draco, in addition to the pain from the unordinary breach of marriage contract, Harry's magic was far too developed for Draco's magic to equally bond with, and it was forcing Draco's magic to mature early. Though there were many advantages to prematurely accessing his magic, it forced Draco's magic to seek out Harry's as a regenerative source to help it grow. Harry hoped that this phase of the bond ended soon.

He nodded to he blond and felt a slight tug at his magic. His magic automatically allowed Draco's to utilize it.

"How long do you think this will last?" He asked Draco as he increased the intensity of the effect of the magical exchange.

He was worried about Draco's health, but also about the hazard Draco posed to him. It was like being responsible for a magically parasitic baby.

Harry was still uncomfortable having Draco around him constantly and was equally unhappy to be in the Wizarding world. Lady Malfoy was quick to warn him about the danger he faced from both Voldemort and Dumbledore. One wanted him dead as a trophy, and the other wanted him as a puppet, a living beacon of hope.

Harry sighed. _I knew that this magical world shit was too good to be true. I should have just stayed away._

Draco had spoken, unheard by him. He nodded, pretended to have heard and understood. The blond seemed to accept this and went silent for a moment.

His life in captivity seemed to not be at end yet. The only possible freedom Harry could see was with the death of Voldemort and afterwards seclusion.

_And Dumbledore…_ The wizard annoyed Harry deeply, but he was very unsure how to deal with the man. He was very powerful and well connected, so Harry definitely did not want to oppose him publicly. Harry recognized also that his name carried much weight in the magical world as someone in direct opposition to the dark forces. As two titular leaders of the Light, it would be logical for them to combine forces as combat the Dark.

Harry was sure he might need to go so far as to seek the wizard's help as he had been battling Voldemort for years. But he obviously would be on Harry's To-Watch list. Harry was sure that the wizard had more connection to his non-magical world than the Judge Omnious. He might hinder any political or public moves Harry made by utilizing his non-magical connections.

Harry was not so naïve as to underestimate the man. He was, like Voldemort, an obvious force to be reckoned with.

_And just like Voldemort, Dumbledore is not so mighty that he can't be brought down. _

"What?" He asked Draco, as the boy waved a hand in front of his face bringing him out of his thoughts of deposition.

"If you didn't want to talk to me, you could have just said so. There was no need to pretend as if were an active part of this discussion." He meant to guilt Harry into offering an apology. Harry frowned in response.

"I'm not easily manipulated into anything, especially apologies, Draco." He ignored the baffled look on the blond's face.

_I'm also not obtuse. _He mentally said to the blond as he stood up.

He felt a slight tug on his magic as though he had just removed a suction tube that was attached to his magic. Draco groaned slightly.

"I need fresh air." He used his magic to call his jacket to him from the chair.

Before Draco had the chance to process his statement, he was out the door.

He breathed a sign of relief as walked down the empty, pitch-black corridor. He stepped lightly in the darkness with a heavy mind.

_I need an actual escape plan._

His considered his first mission being to destroy Voldemort. He needed to figure out why Voldemort wanted his head on a stick. _Who would want to kill a one-year old anyway? Unless he was after my parents… but they were unable to stop him, he still went after me. Why? I stopped him too. How?_

He had so many questions, and each one lead to dozens more as he pondered them.

He shook his head. One thing was certain, if Voldemort attacked him as a baby and failed, he would be hesitant to attack him as an adult if he had any sense. That bought him some time. He just needed to get some information. He needed to read up on as much as possible. Voldemort as well as all educated wizards had one up on him. He had limited access to Draco's knowledge, but the blond could only do wand magic and Harry only knew wandless. He was going to need to catch up if he was to kill Voldemort before Voldemort killed him.

If he had as much money as Lady Malfoy said he did, then he should be able to get any resources he needed.

_I can't wait to see this for myself._ One good thing that came out of his coming to the magical world was going from poor to powerful_._

Lady Malfoy wanted him to wait before he presented himself to the Wizarding World officially. She believed they could stage this to his benefit. Instead of going to the Wizarding bank, an official would meet him at the manor tomorrow or the day after to educate him on his assets.

He would then sign the proxy forms that allowed Lady Malfoy to temporary represent him in the government. _Until I declare myself informed enough to take up any position._ Harry believed that the woman was competent and sensible, but he did not trust her enough to sign any seat of power that belonged to him over to her unconditionally

_If anything, I'd let Draco represent me. At least I can see into his mind and read his intentions._

Despite this perk, the bond ultimately frightened him with the sheer amount of insight that it gave him into Draco's life, mind, and soul. There was little he did not know, or could not find out about the boy. _Lucky though, he doesn't know anything about me_. _I think._

The thought of Draco being able to rummage around in his mind unsettled him. There would be nothing he could hide from the blond. He would be exposed and vulnerable.

_I wonder how long it will take him until he finds out about his mom and me._

He got lost in memories of sex with Lady Malfoy. After almost falling down an unseen staircase, he created a ball of light and allowed it to dance in front of him.

He found himself walking into the Malfoy Library. With high ceilings, the room housed five floors of books. It boosted one of the greatest libraries in Britain outside of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts, and Bulfinch, Britain's magical library.

Harry ran his hand on the lavish white and green marble torch next to him and willed all of the torches to alight with bright light. The light reached every corner he could see.

It had to be the most majestic library he had ever seen in his life, _simply breathtaking_. There was a circular entry area, from which he could look up at all of the different levels of the library. Each level connected to the spiraling grand staircases on both ends. He wanted nothing more than to roam the endless rows of rolls and books to ingest all of the information, but Draco, raised as an only child, spent much time within the pristine walls during his childhood. One of the blond's earliest memories included reading a book on Animagus from the library. The blond had conquered, in his opinion, a good portion of the library.

There was no need for Harry to peruse potions, etiquette, jinxes, bloodlines or politics as Draco had thoroughly explored those sections of the library. Those had been the parts that he had been permitted to inspect.

Harry drifted along the unexplored sections on defensive magic, charms, and wandless magic until he found himself wandering along the fifth and highest level of the library. He passed books on politics from the Dark Ages to current times. He ran his trailed along the cold marble.

He passed a slightly darkened and fenced section of the library. A chill went through him, and he withdrew his fingers. This was the only place in the library that he was restricted from entering. Its books were foreign to him and Draco as it was a newly acquired section from Voldemort.

Apparently, as Lord Malfoy informed Draco, the Dark Lord had dispersed an important part of his personal library to the Malfoys as they were the most "loyal" and able to safeguard his precious items. Draco told him directly that he had tried and failed to access this dark section ofs library, but the gates hissed at him.

_Jackpot. _Harry inspected the gate, trying to figure out how to get it opened.

He noticed that his forehead throbbed slightly, annoyingly at first then more painful. He backed away slightly.

A sudden bolt of pain brought him to his knees. The scar on his face no longer hurt, it burned. He threw one hand out as he tipped forward. His magic pulsing all around him

As soon as his hand made contact with the black, wrought iron gate, a voice spoke to him is a slow, odd tone.

"Password." He vaguely heard a hiss accentuate the voice.

Harry gritted his teeth. "Open damnit." He growled.

The bars of the gate gave off a loud rattle Harry could feel the magic attempt to surround him. His magic was defending him viciously. Harry actually saw bright beams of magic leaving his fingertips and fighting the dark magic tendrils coming off of the gates.

He grew tired of the stalemate after a few moments and decided to end it quickly. He held his palm out and pushed more magic into the battle.

His magic pushed the black tendrils back.

He inhaled deeply as his magic made contact with the black bars. Time seemed to stop for a moment. He felt his magic hesitate.

There was no sound, no warning, but he was still blasted off of his feet. He toppled over the railing that separated him from a four-story tumble. His magic slowed his fall. He landed softly on his back.

"Damn."

Just as he righted himself, his curiosity got the best of him and his magic. He was suddenly propelled through the air backwards. The gates seemed to watch him apprehensively.

He felt a sudden intense burning flashing through him. _Oh shit._ He felt a very familiar scorching throughout his body. He magic swelled within him like a viper ready to strike.

With a series of flashes, a loud groaning, and, with a none-too-gentle smell of burnt metal, the black gates were no more. A pile of ashes welcomed Harry as he walked into the dark section.

Immediately his body relaxed. The scar on his forehead no longer pained him with only a dull ache remaining. His magic no longer hummed in his ears, but it remained at the ready should something attack him.

He took a few steps into the area. He brought forth a few balls of light to conquer the pure darkness in section.

Books of all types lined an onyx bookshelf. Most of them appeared to range from old to ancient. His brow furrowed as he noticed some of them dated before the printing press had even been invented.

_Were they handwritten? Or were wizards printing books before regular people were?_

There were manuscripts and old scrolls on some of the shelves. Many of them writing in hieroglyphics or in symbols that he did not understand. He conjured a tiny table and chair and enlarged it. He pulled a few books off of the shelf to look at them.

_Control_ _Earth, Fire, Water_ _by Glewoth Grink_

_Roaming Magiks by Eythik Paine_

_On The Darkest Torture by Bonic Chon_

He flipped through some of the pictures and almost dropped the last book. _Who would think of this shit?_ _Who thought to fracture all of someone's bones and slowly drive the sharp bone fragments through the person's body?_

The worst parts were the pictures of actual victims of these spells. Harry looked at one woman silently screaming and twisting in agony under a curse that removes the person's skin and makes the air toxic to the flesh.

He was repulsed by the information in that book and many of the others that he breezed through, but nevertheless drawn to the information.

_This is what Voldemort knows,_ he told himself, _I should at least have some idea of what he knows… to keep the playing field even._

He created a box and grabbed a few armfuls of the oldest and darkest looking books and scrolls. He shrunk them and put them in the box after flipping through them.

A book fell to the floor in the farthest corner with a loud thud grabbing his attention. His pulse increased with blood and magic. He conjured another light and walked over to the book.

It was ash colored and covered in some sort of sleek fabric. It had burn marks and cuts all over it. There was no title, no author, and no date on it. Harry didn't want to believe what his eyes were showing him, but the cover showed a man on fire and enjoying it. Upon closed inspection, he could tell that it was not fire but magic. He opened the book and saw no words.

The book shook slightly. Harry quickly put it back on the floor and moved away from it. _What the fuck?_

"How dare you attack me?" Someone grumbled angrily. Harry jumped out of his skin. His magic swept around him, searching for the speaker. More books fell behind him. He turned and went to check it out.

"Who's there?" The quiver in his voice did not surprise him. He scanned Draco's memories quickly for some reference to disembodied voice magic to no avail.

There was no response. The book was still as was the entirety of the library. Harry's ears picked up the rustle of the occupants of the paintings outside the library's doors, but he neither sensed nor heard anything in the library itself.

"Harry James Potter. Born of Charms Mistress Lily Marie Potter née Potter and Lord James Archibald Potter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. Marked an illegitimate bearer of the legacy of Slytherin. Descendant of Celestria Gryffindor, eldest of Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw. Deemed a vessel of Magic. You are accepted."

_What the fuck?_ The voice did not have a particular masculine or feminine quality to it, but carried the tone of multiple individuals speaking at once through. _Not making this any less creepy._

Harry realized then that it was the book _speaking_ to him, of him. He felt cold, figurative water trickle over his back. He did not have to consult Draco's memories to know that a talking book wasn't necessarily nor normally a good sign.

He was at lost for words. _What do you say to a book?_

"You may retract your magic, Lord Potter. We mean you no harm." The hovering book said.

The fact that the mouthless book spoke of harm made Harry and his magic tense even more. He and the book must have remained in that position for quite some time before his magic relented.

The room emptied of sound and motion. Harry wasn't even sure if he was breathing.

He considered calling Draco, but he could feel the relaxed waves of slumber flowing from Draco to him through the bond. Trying to wake the blond would be pointless, and even if he woke him, Draco was more likely to berate him for breaking into the section.

"What do you want from me?" He asked, putting some tenacity in his voice.

The voice chortled. "It is not we who want something from you, however you who _need_ something from us."

The use of the plural substantiated his assumption that there were multiple voices speaking to him in unison. He felt his magic begin to stir.

"I am not sure what you all mean. What exactly do I need from you?"

His question was meet by silence.

Harry was starting to get anxious when the book suddenly flew to the floor again. He approached it slowly.

It looked just as old, torn and used as it had the moment he first saw it. He gasped as he read the title that was now present on the cover of the book.

_Fundamental Gneisto- Survival Guide for Magik's Chosen_

He picked the book up to examine it more closely. The picture on the front of the book was no longer of a random man, but it was of him surrounded by fiery magic.

_What the f-._

He stopped mid-thought.

There was a sudden burning on his wrist. He tried to let go of the book to rub it, but the book seemed to be glued to his hands.

He cried out in agony. For once, his magic did nothing to stop the pain. The lights he had created all disappeared. He was plunged into darkness, smelling the obvious burning of his own skin. The skin on his wrist was bright red.

He yelped in surprise and agony as the skin on his wrist suddenly caught fire. He tried to blow it out. He gave up as it only made the burning worse though it did not spread.

_Bathroom_, _water_!

He tripped over the box of stolen books as he ran out of that section of the library with the book glued to his hands, the skin on his right wrist on fire, and in extreme agony. His wrist functioned as a torch in the pitch-black library.

As soon as he reached the stairs, the fire on his wrist extinguished itself. Harry barely registered the lights flickering back on as the book dropped out of his hands. He immediately grabbed his right wrist and clutched it protectively. His magic stirred cautiously, as if something would happen if he healed himself.

The fire left a red circle surrounding three beams etched in puffed up, irritated skin. The arched beam in the middle towered over the two flanking it on both sides. As his magic healed the symbol, it settled on a pinkish, red hue.

Despite the pain he was in, Harry stared at his wrist in amazement.

"The ritual is complete with the branding. All hail Lord Harry James Potter of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter, Magik's Chosen." Voiced the book. "Let him be one with magic."

Harry glanced at it. The symbol that burned his wrist now graced the cover of the book in gold.

Harry sensed someone moving about in the house near the library. Not wanting to risk getting caught red handed, literally, with stolen books on the staircase in the library, he quickly picked up the book with his picture on it and rushed back into Voldemort's section of the library.

He willed his magic to summon and shrink all of the books present and stuff them in the book that he summoned earlier. He didn't want to miss any information by being picky, especially if any of the other books were specifically for him like the one he held under his arm.

In seconds, all of the shelves were bare. He shrank the box and exited the room. He listened for the person near the library. They were directly in front of the library now. Harry could sense that it was Draco from the warmth and curiosity that came through the bond.

He called on his magic to make Voldemort's section of the library look as though he had never touched it.

He merely blinked and it appeared as it had before he destroyed the entrance. There seemed to be books on the shelves and his conjured table disappeared. He was shocked by the detail his magic put into the illusion.

The only thing that was absent was the feeling of dark magic. Harry was sure that he did not want to, nor did he know how to, replicate that magic.

He didn't spend more than ten seconds admiring his work before he quickly shrank the book in his hands and put it in his pocket.

_Draco?_ He asked as he rushed down the stairs to the third level, pulled a random book off of the shelf and plopped down in a random chair.

_Potter?_ Harry looked down towards the entrance of the library to see Draco's blond head peak into the library.

"Up here." He said getting the guy's attention.

He got up slowly, as if he had been sitting in the same spot for a while. He stretched his legs.

Draco looked him up and down when he got to where Harry was. "You look like shit."

"The book was intense." Harry said simply.

He knew he could lie to Draco and Draco could not tell. Draco had told him a day or two ago that he could only hear Harry if Harry talked to him directly through their connection. He had to wait for his magic and the connection to mature before he could peer into Harry, as Harry peered into his mind.

Draco shot the book in his hands a brief look before laughing. "You find _Hogwarts: A History_ intense? Just wait until you get there!"

Harry grinned as he noted the success of his mission. He happily threw one arm around Draco's shoulders, surprising the blond.

"Why are you so happy?" He asked Harry. "I don't think I've seen you smile yet."

_I just robbed the bloke you called the most powerful dark wizard of the past three centuries. _

Harry merely smiled at him before he laughed and put the book back. "I'm just excited for some reason. I think the bond is affecting me."

"Well, feel free to share." Draco replied, still suspicious of the smiling Harry.

Harry pushed his magic cheerfully through his arm into the blond, feeling him relax instantly.

Harry felt his right wrist tingle slightly where he was now marked. He lost himself to his thoughts as he steered Draco out of the library and back to his bedroom.

_That book better be good._


	10. Chapter 10

_**Of Lords**_

Fawkes made a clicking noise with his beak, unsure whether he should lighten the dark atmosphere within the room or reflect the sullen mood of his master to show understanding and sympathy. He finally settled for a melodic note that managed to combine both.

Albus Dumbledore had just arrived back from another emergency Order of the Phoenix meeting and was carefully placing the memories into his pensieve.

Following Voldemort's attack on Malfoy Manor two days prior, there had been three such meetings where Dumbledore's spies within Voldemort's ranks divulged any information they managed to up.

_All of which were terribly miniscule and useless_, Dumbledore scowled beneath his great white beard as he slowly began pacing before his desk.

Fawkes sang another note of a rather uplifting phoenix tune, but it did little to subdue the old man's impatience and anger.

He managed a partial smile at his ever-observant familiar, "Sorry old friend, but I don't think this situation will be remedied by your wonderful warbling."

Fawkes chirped a sad note of understanding before deciding to slide his head under his wing and take a quick nap.

Dumbledore watched his phoenix familiar for a moment as a very childish annoyance from being ignored pervaded his thinking. He was soon preoccupied with pacing once more. He had worn an actual black streak into his stone floor that those close to him accurately named the "Potter mark." Following Harry's tragic falling out with his family more than seven years prior, the boy had been his main concern, prior to Voldemort's unsurprising yet eventful rebirth.

It shocked him how little power someone with his standing in the Magical world had in the muggle world. If it weren't against all Statutes of Secrecy, many international wizard laws, and everything he stood for, he would have walked in and removed the boy immediately from the muggle criminal correctional system.

Luckily he had been able to pull some favors he had with muggle judges and attorneys to regulate the amount of information the press received and make all vital information _sub judice_. It had been none too easy, but it was all he had been able to do.

Following the boy's arrest, Dumbledore also contacted friends, acquaintances and former Hogwarts students who resided in or had extensive knowledge of the muggle world. After several magical secrecy oaths on each individual he contacted, he thoroughly explained Harry's situation and segued usually onto his own numerous misjudgments.

Each one told him the same thing, "Law is law." Harry murdered his guardians in the muggle world, and the muggle world would then decide his fate. Any attempt by him to remove or assist Harry would be considered an act of disregard to centuries' worth of abstruse alliances, laws, and treaties.

He stopped pacing and looked out his window on the starry mid-September night. His subsequent sigh seemed to echo around him.

_If only I could go back and change it all…_

Dumbledore was witness to all three of the Potters' wills and their signings: the two individual from Lily and James, and their joint one as well. In each will, it was clearly stated that Harry be brought up in the Wizarding World, in the care of one of the Light families that they listed, and was to, under _no circumstance_, be exposed to Lily's sister and her family.

Dumbledore, who had maintained a fairly professional relationship with both Lily and James during their time at Hogwarts, considered the request odd and most likely the result of some childhood grudge held by Petunia against her magical, younger sister or vice versa. He distinctly remembered Minerva, whose relationship with both Lily and James was much more personal than his own following their graduation, mentioning that Petunia was jealous that she had not been chosen to study magic.

The two sisters were said to rarely to have spoken, and when they did, it was usually Lily' decision to initiate communication. Minerva mentioned Lily not being made Petunia's bridesmaid, by Petunia's choice, which worsened their relationship even more.

However, Dumbledore had felt that such profound sibling animosity would be supplanted by the death of Lily and James, and also by an arcane familial instinct towards the then newly orphaned Harry. He thought that by ignoring the wills' right to be read, and putting Harry with his aunt he would do the boy more good than having him brought up somewhere in the Wizarding world, fully aware of his fame and more likely to become a snotty bighead.

He never considered the possibility of Petunia never putting her dislike of her sister behind her. The thought of someone holding a petty grudge against a dead sibling through that sibling's child had never once entered his equation. He had merely professed to all who had acrimoniously disputed his logic, namely Minerva, Augusta Longbottom, and surprisingly Severus as well, that the boy's safety was paramount to all else and that the blood wards they would construct around the boy and his blood aunt were nearly infallible to an attack from the outside.

_But any attack from the inside by one party on another would be nearly imperceptible, _Dumbledore thought to himself, pejoratively admitting a flaw in his own logic.

He felt the wards around his office open to let Minerva up the spiraling staircase. The new war brewing around them had made him all the more paranoid about potential attacks on him and the school.

New wards were being put up daily, and for the first time since the creation of the school the ward stone was being moved from its slightly secure location in the Room of Requirement to his bedroom, which was under the Fidelius charm. Hogwarts was subsequently the most secure and safe establishment in England.

Before his door opened to allow her in, he called for a pot of Earl Grey tea and a plate of butter biscuits.

His thin-lipped Headmistress barely looked in his direction as she entered his office and immediately began to observe one of the instruments on a table near his massive magical telescope. The small instrument was the only one that continued to give a reading on Harry, on his safety at least. It would simple turn red if he were ever in danger. All other instruments had been either rendered useless following the magical outburst that included the murder of the Dursleys or by the Magical Band Harry was required to wear in muggle detainment.

Minerva released a sigh of relief at the dull gray color of the trinket. Dumbledore ended his pacing and took a seat to ease the ache in his left knee.

Voldemort's nearly successful attempt to break into the Room of Prophecies in the Ministry of Magic led to his return being fully unveiled to the public and a short but strenuous battle from which Dumbledore had yet to completely recover.

"Any news?" Minerva asked as she conjured an exquisite and extremely hard looking Victorian chair and sat herself down in it.

Dumbledore felt her Occulmency shields fire up and her face relax before she looked him expressionlessly in the eyes. He sighed. After the revelation of exactly what had occurred to Harry and his part in it all, Minerva refused to acknowledge him outside of professional obligations, and bridled at any attempt to assuage her.

He briefly considered only regurgitating what little had been said at the Order meeting, but decided to give her all information he had. _It is indeed time to repair these destroyed bridges._

"Little. Very little, and none of the information is useful in any form." He saw a flicker of sorrow appear in her face for an instant before it was brutally hidden behind her emotional wall. "However, I have reason to believe that Harry and young Mr. Malfoy will be visiting us very soon."

She shot up in her chair. "What evidence do you have?"

_A hunch and a half century of experience_, "Several shopkeepers in Diagon Alley have hinted that Harry had purchased at their stores recently." _Albeit prior to the attack_, he added mentally.

She blinked in confusion. "Do you really think it wise to base such an assumption off of a shopping spree?"

He cracked a tired smile as he offered her a cup of tea, which she immediately refused. "He brought a set of Hogwarts robes and the books on the list for Sixth Years," he said simply.

She gasped slightly. There was a moment of complete silence in the room as both of them descended into their own thoughts.

Dumbledore briefly wondered if the bond between the two boys allowed for Harry to catch up on the material for the last five years.

"Do you think," Minerva said slowly, "that we should be concerned for the well-being of Mr. Malfoy? I am afraid that due to his family's recent fall out with the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, some within his House might be less _lenient_ towards him."

"I fear it is exactly those students who _we_ should worry about. Harry is obviously quite defensive of Mr. Malfoy," he displayed his slightly distorted hand as evidence. He was very lucky to still have a hand after Harry caused the Portkey to explode, suffusing the magical backfire into his hand.

"Indeed," she said unsympathetically.

Dumbledore decided to change the subject to something that would be more in his favor. "It is very fortunate that Mr. Potter's past discrepancies will not be officially released to-."

Like a lion, McGonagall pounced, "Don't you dare try to take credit for something you had little to do with, Albus! You were too "preoccupied" futilely trying to locate and capture the boy than protect his image in the newspapers, despite what you purport at the Order meetings."

"Your inability to see pass your superfluous titles and fallacious ideas made you reticent to make the right decisions _twice_ now," Dumbledore flinched visibly and merely fidgeted with the biscuits on the platter before him. "Luckily, Augusta had no such compunctions and used all of her resources to keep Harry's name out of the papers."

He started slightly. She reached for a cup and poured herself some tea.

"Augusta flooed me today." She paused as if she were considering revealing something confidential to him. "According to her, she received a time-sensitive and last-minute invitation from Gringotts to attend a private hearing a few days ago. Although, she had been hesitant to attend, she was told her presence was vital to the proceeding."

Dumbledore leaned forward listening attentively. "She said she was portkeyed to a room in the bank were a few people awaited her. One of the those present, Lady Malfoy, immediately swore her to secrecy on the exact matters of the proceedings and at the end requested that she use her influence in Wizarding Litigators Association to put some strings for Harry."

Dumbledore dropped his biscuit in shock. "Did she tell you anything else?"

Minerva had the nerve to smile at him. "Only that there had been a reading of the three Potter wills and that she was reinstated as his Family Litigator until she finds someone else suitable."

Dumbledore knew that the surprises were yet to stop coming. He swallowed the painful lump that had been stuck in his throat.

"What she had been allowed to pass on to me is that Harry declared Lady Malfoy neé Black to be his magical guardian, a Marner Frond as his muggle guardian, and Draco Malfoy his bond brother."

"And did she say whether he made these decision _uninfluenced_?" He worried that Harry might have been subject to some minor mind control charms.

"Apparently, he did everything of free mind. The goblins are very competent in matters of befuddlement… Augusta was very impressed with the boy. She spoke highly of him as, in her word, 'a young man who will rattle the breaches of this country.'" She gave a small laugh. "He must have done some impressive things for Augusta to praise him so highly and support him so quickly."

Dumbledore sat back to process this information. For someone who has just learned about the Wizarding World, he must be impressive in the least. _Harry, my boy, you are just full of surprises._

"Also, she said that Harry assumed the position as Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter with Lady Malfoy representing him in the Wizengamot." Minerva sipped a it more of her tea. "If I'm correct in _my_ assumption, I believe Harry might have also assumed Head de facto of the House of Malfoy per the Laws of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses."

"Ah, he was attacked by Lucius while seeking refuge within their manor." Dumbledore added, to which McGonagall nodded.

Dumbledore relaxed slightly as he noticed McGonagall no longer showing signs of being angry with him. "Albus, you don't think that they are using his positions, do you? Lily and James would roll in their graves if a Dark family manipulated the Potters power with nefarious motives."

"No, Minerva, I don't believe so." He said as the clock struck midnight. "I found Harry to be a very resourceful, observant, and occult young man. I believe he would recognize and manipulation on the subtle and overt side."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "What basis do you have for that comment? The St. Mungo's debacle? We hadn't known the boy personally."

Dumbledore paused.

_I should have told her the truth from the very beginning._ "From the day that the blood wards at his family's house fell up until around seven months ago, I've visited him whilst he was in muggle captivity."

McGonagall gasped.

Albus spoke quickly. "I thought seeing the world succumb to the darkness that Gellert Grindelwald adored would be the most horrid thing of my lifetime, but I was terribly mistaken. Seeing a timid, orphaned child struggle day-to-day to survive, defend himself, and his transformation from innocent to an Apollonian and tough-skinned fighter, and not being able to do anything to help him, might be the hardest experience I've had to live through."

"Oh Albus." She said softly.

"Observing him learn to master wandless magic alone was very exciting, I must say. It was all very natural to him despite of his obvious precocity. As if Magik itself wanted him to master it." He showed his damaged hand for emphasis. "We have seen only a small sample of what this young man can and will be able to do."

"Do you think we have anything to fear from him as Alastor thinks?" She finished her tea.

"Alastor has the… gift of paranoia. While I don't always agree with what he believes, there is usually a rather strong reason for consideration." He vanished the tea set after putting his cup back. "Though I do not believe that Harry would turn completely dark as the proclivity for simply hurting others is not something he seems to possess, to assume that he would never do dark things would be simple-minded."

"It is difficult not to see the young Tom Riddle went I see him." Minerva admitted. It had almost slipped Dumbledore's mind that Minerva had also witnessed Tom Riddle during his time at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore rubbed his beard. "I do not doubt that Harry will dabble in that what we call Dark Magiks," Minerva gasped, "_however_, I do not believe he will fall prey to the hatred, viciousness, and appetite for destruction that Tom Riddle did."

"Indeed." Minerva said after a few moments of contemplation.

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall suddenly went silent. A shifting of the wards disrupted their discussion of the precocious Potter. The wards were registering two incomers in the Forbidden Forest, one who Hogwarts recognized as having resided within her walls and one who she did not.

He stood suddenly and dashed to an instrument to his right, defying his years. McGonagall jumped slightly. Fawkes started from his slumber.

The man smiled brightly and heaved a great sigh.

"Minerva, please go rouse the Heads of Houses. I believe we will be having a special Sorting tonight. I shall go greet Hogwarts newest student."

McGonagall looked at him with pure shock and confusion written all over her face. She then dashed from the room.

Dumbledore turned back to the instrument as if it had brought him the best gift in the world. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry Potter."

OoOoOoOoO

_Two days earlier…_

Harry felt indestructible as Lady Malfoy's body clenched around his member, announcing the arrival of her second orgasm of the night.

Harry let an almost primitive growl escape from the back of his throat.

The woman beneath him convulsed slightly the orgasmic waves deluged her. Harry increased his pace and shift in order to insure that his penis brushed against that one spot that made women go crazy.

_Having sex with a nurse might have been the smartest and most educational thing I've ever done._

Lady Malfoy's mouth was open in a silent "O", and her breathing was erratic.

Harry neared completion. He felt himself moving spasmodically as he lost control over how hard he was ramming into the woman.

"AH!" She cried out in pleasure. Her hips thrust upwards onto his own bringing him to his climax.

Harry collapsed slightly on top of the soft-skinned blonde breathing heavily. One of her perky, aroused nipples teasingly poked him in the shoulder.

_Goddamn. Best way to wake up._

After moments of just lying there catching their breath, Harry slowly removed his flaccid penis from within her. She gave a soft moan and began to twirl his wild black hair between three of her fingers.

She pulled his hair in one direction, forcing him to face her. According to her, his untamable hair was one of things above his waistline that turned her on the most. _Excluding the eyes._

She planted a chaste kiss upon his lips. "Lucius will return in three days time so I scheduled your house appointment with Gringotts today," she said. "You and Draco can be on your way to Hogwarts before he returns."

"At what time?" He murmured into her neck.

"At exactly seven minutes and twenty-four seconds after ten." She laughed softly. "Goblins schedule appointments at the most unusual times; unusual, at least, to us humans."

Harry glanced accidentally over to the single clock that stood in his room. He blinked twice make sure that he was seeing correctly. The clock gave nine o'clock as the current time.

"That can't be right." Harry rolled off of the woman as his stomach growled fiercely at them both for depriving it of the nutrients that it was supposed it receive an hour ago.

She laughed again.

_When did she come into my room? At eight o'clock, maybe earlier_, Harry tried to remember.

Lady Malfoy stood in all of her glowing glory, slowly donning her furry house robe and hiding her perfect body from Harry's eyes. She gave him a pretty smile.

Harry, naked and still basking in the afterglow of a beautiful orgasm, observed her openly from his bed.

"Can't we find some way to change it?" Harry moaned playfully.

"Not unless you want to reschedule it for this day eleven years from now."

Harry merely stuffed a pillow over his head and groaned.

Lady Malfoy chuckled. "You should start getting ready. You wouldn't want to be late to your own bank hearing."

Harry pulled the pillow away to blow a raspberry at her. She shook her head and exited his chambers.

Almost immediately after the door closed, Harry dashed from the bed and retrieved the book _Fundamental Gneisto_ from where he had hidden his stolen goods.

He had barely slept last night trying to coerce the book into speaking with him again. Every inquiry was met with silence. He almost threw the book across the room, but his reasoning overrode his temper. He was sure that there was some sort of access code or trigger word.

He flipped through the book one more time. _One empty bloody page after another!_The book's pages were all empty, providing him with just as little information as a bundle of sticks.

"Talk to me!" He growled, shaking the book.

Nothing happened.

_Useless_.

He chucked the book back with the others he had stolen from Voldemort a day ago. He stood up just as he felt someone approach the door to his chambers. He made the stolen good invisible with a charm that Malfoy had learned last year at Hogwarts.

His door flew up unceremoniously and in walked Marner fully dressed in wizarding attire. _Someone surely knows how to fit in._ He and Marcius arrived yesterday as Harry and Draco were in the library discussing and researching their bond.

Marcius had managed to keep his and Draco's magical signatures from being noticed, however when they noticed that wizards were spying on Marner's apartment, Marcius dropped his wards. They hid at Marner's parents' house until Lady Malfoy, under Draco's orders, sent them an invitation to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire.

Marner was apparently the first non-magical to ever step foot in the magical manor. He took it all in stride, managing to assimilate more quickly than Harry could have.

"Harry. Breakfast is getting col-." He stopped at the sight of his fully naked charge. "Bloody hell boy, would it hurt you to put on some clothes!"

Harry smiled cheekily. "Like seeing a penis disturbs you! Ha!" He gave an accentuated pelvic thrust with the desired consequence of making Marner blush harder.

Marner looked away, only to find Harry reappear in front of him.

"Com'on, Marner! Give your charge a hug." Harry tried to grab the man, but he ducked under Harry's arms with a yelp. Harry merely disappeared and reappeared to where the man ran.

Harry learned from Draco's few memories on the subject that he was doing something call Apparation. Draco would be learning it next year supposedly; there were supplemental lessons he could take his sixth year of Hogwarts.

Harry tortured Marner a few more minutes before Marner suddenly tripped over the rug (with a slight assist from Harry's magic).

Harry's sides hurt from laughing so much. Marner attempted to take a swipe at him, but to no prevail due to him covering his eyes as he swung.

Harry relented shortly afterward Marner accidently hit himself and summoned some clothes. He charmed his ears to not hear the berating that Marner was steaming his way. _I love magic._

He soon realized that there was no longer any time for him to shower as the goblins would be arriving in minutes.

Marner left some time after he summoned his clothes, purely red in the face from spitting fire at Harry. Harry saved the memory of that event for later embarrassment.

While he quickly brushed his teeth, he browsed through Draco's knowledge of goblins. The blonde had allowed him unlimited access to all academic memories. Harry had spent most of the previous day sorting through the new knowledge- and trying to get the book _Fundamental Gneisto_ to respond to him.

He nearly spat out his toothpaste as he was inundated with Draco's memories of lectures and books on goblins. The curious boy had even read a book on goblin mannerisms and goblin-wizard etiquette. Yet, for some reason, he opted to not use his understanding of goblins in his past interactions with them. Instead, he and many in the Wizarding world treated them like servants or worse.

_He must have tried to be more like his father_, Harry assumed. From what Harry could gather Malfoy senior had a particular, blatant distaste and disregard for anything or anyone he deemed lower than him or not significant enough for his time.

According to Lady Malfoy, he had missed Draco's last four birthdays due to "business". _Which Lady Malfoy opines as his euphemism for sleeping with some other woman._

Harry gave himself a slight shake and tried to refocus on learning as much about goblins as he could before he was forced to meet them.

There was a loud _CRACK_ and one of the house elves appeared behind him. Harry was somewhat used to the creatures, but deep down he still opposed to their raison d'être. It seemed as if their sole purpose was to serve rich Wizarding families in the same manner that he had been forced to serve the Dursleys.

_It's practically servitude…_

Draco and his mother both ignored their presence until they needed the house elves or when the house elves did something wrong. As much as Harry wanted to ignore their presence to forget that painful stage of his life, and to preserve his good impressions of the blonds, he could not. He went out of his way to treat the house elves with as much respect as he would give anyone else, if not more.

"Master Potter, Mistress Malfoy asks that you eat a quick breakfast before the goblins come, sir." Harry tried to remember the elf's name. He was sure this was the same elf that retrieved him from his room yesterday.

"Will do, Dobby. Your name is Dobby right?" The elf's large eyes widened even more, something that Harry seriously doubted was physically possible.

"Master Potter remembers Dobby's name! Dobby is very honored, sir." The elf bowed deeply.

"Dobby, please call me Harry." Harry said. "No 'sir' or 'Master'."

The poor elf immediately started to hyperventilate. Harry put down his toothbrush and did his best to comfort the, now crying, creature.

"I'm sorry, Mast- _Harry_," he almost choked on Harry's name. "Never has a wizard asked Dobby to call him by his given name!"

Harry only smiled.

"Dobby will go get your break-."

"Don't worry Dobby, _sir_." The creature yelped in surprise. "I'll manage without breakfast today."

"But-."

"Dobby, thanks for asking!" Harry smiled, still kneeling and holding the creature by the shoulder reassuringly.

The elf nodded slowly and popped away after a snap of his fingers.

Harry stared at the space from Dobby had just stood for a moment before he quickly matted down his hair and jetted from the room.

To make finding the meeting place in the large manor a bit easier, Lady Malfoy had asked that they meet in the parlor in Harry's wing. She micromanaged the meeting to the point of telling Harry where he would sit in relation to the goblins with Marner on his left and her on his right, with Draco on her right.

Harry thought that it was rather unnecessary and ridiculous, but he went along with her plans of course. _If it means we can shag whenever she wants, I'll do whatever she wants._

He skidded abruptly to a halt outside of the parlor. He inhaled deeply.

One thing Lady Malfoy instructed him to do, that he found to be quite perspective of her, was to speak little and use methods of business management he learned at Sirkins. He had been able to scare with one twitch. Sadly, many here were not aware of his past, so he had some advantage.

Harry pulled a string off of his robe and quickly transfigured it into a small mirror. He observed himself for a second to test his "look".

He shivered as he looked at himself. _This might just work_.

He returned the mirror to its original state and allowed his magic to open the doors to the parlor before he entered.

_Attempting a grand entrance?_

Harry blatantly ignored the blond's voice in his head and focused on the group of people and goblins awaiting his arrival. Unbeknownst to the majority of the room's occupants, he was cursing the boy with a variety of indigestible words. The blonde blushed slightly.

Draco's magic was making leaps and bounds. He was not on the same level as Harry magically, but he was getting there. He had a very healthy glow. He even managed to produce a small wandless-created fire after he and Marcius had a small argument yesterday.

The bond, they decided, couldn't be destroyed or ignored, but it could be manipulated. Apparently, there were many bonds that wizards have been using for centuries. Harry and Draco settled on _Fraternitus_. It was blood magic, which had been dangerous for Draco in his weakened condition, but it linked the mind and magics of the bonded – much like the bond Harry had accidentally created. It was also the safest since it was one most similar to Harry's unintentional one.

Though Marcius had disagreed with their logic, Harry managed to _convince_ Lady Malfoy to mediate their bonding. The effects had been felt almost immediately. The constant syphoning off of his magic had ceased, and Draco no longer needed to be constantly around him. _Which is good since I'm buggering his mum._

The bond allowed them to decide how much of their memories they could share with one another. Which Harry preferred, fearing castration should Draco learn about his rendezvouses with his mother. Harry had given him limited access to his past. The blonde mentioned at dinner yesterday that he had access to Harry's childhood memories and some from his time in Sirkins.

He weighed the benefits and disadvantages of appearing ignorant of goblin traditions, but quickly scrapped that idea. He wanted the goblins to respect him and also show his respect for them.

Harry approached the head goblin, which was robed in garland and other outlandish decorum. He quickly went over everything he remembered from the books and Draco's mind, and decided last minute to do the last thing that anyone would expect of him.

He kneeled baring his hands in front of the richly decorated goblin. Generally, the wizard would bare his wand, but as Harry had none, he bared his hands, his flesh and blood. The gesture was a sign of trust building and openness, considered a sign of utmost importance within Wizarding traditions. To do so in front of a goblin, also kneeling to their eye level, put the wizard on the same level as the magical being. Something that very few wizards would dare, for fear of societal or political ramifications.

He ignored both the gasps and the sudden change within the atmosphere of the room. There was a moment of disturbed silence.

He smiled mentally.

He bowed his head in the direction of the goblins, toward the head goblin, and quoted from Draco's memory, "May Magic bless and accept my gesture of gratitude to you and your kin on behalf of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

Barely a second passed before the unnaturally warm hands of the goblin before him covered his hands. He raised his head, keeping any lines from moving on his face.

"May Magic bless my gesture of acceptance." The goblin mumbled, deeply surprised.

There was a small gust of wind between the two of them. Old Magik blessings were generally acknowledged by nature in some form. Harry smiled genuinely and broadly as he returned to his feet as gracefully as his knees would allow.

"May we begin?" He gestured to a large oak, debriefing table that he conjured before those present, eliciting a small gasp of surprise from a few once more.

_That went well._

_I've underestimated you, Potter_. Harry glanced at the blond, so see him applauding Harry silently with his grey eyes as he along with the others sat themselves at the table.

The oldest goblin, who he had kneeled to seconds before, began, "My Lord Potter, if I may prematurely address you so highly, we are here to instate you as rightful Lord of Potter and subsequent houses: Evans, Gaunt, and Peverell. Do you accept?"

"Yes, Righteous and Honorable Lord Goblin." The goblin's eyes enlarged comically. Harry knew he was laying the traditions of goblin and wizards on pretty thick, but it couldn't hurt.

"You honor me highly, Lord Potter, please, address me as Grindclaw."

Harry smiled softly, "Only if you and your brethren will be so kind as to allow me the same request. Please address me as Harry."

The goblins all bowed their heads in respect. Harry returned the motion.

The head goblin cleared his throat; Harry was so sure he saw tears in the creature's eyes. _They are really eating this up! _"These proceedings are from henceforth, until dictated by Lo- Harry or myself, private." He and the other goblins murmured something in their goblin tongue.

Harry suddenly choked. It felt as if all air had been vacuumed out of the room for a moment. Around him, others were recovering as well. Everyone present verbally agreed to Oath of Secrecy. If they hadn't, Harry was sure that the goblin guard would have been removed them from the room. They eyed the black haired and auburn haired men who sat farthest from Harry, who had waited a moment too long to accept the oath.

_Sirius Black and Remus Lupin_, Draco supplied mentally. _They were friends of your parents. Black was imprisoned for betraying your parents to the Dark Lord. He was released in my second year after they found the actually betrayer in Hogwarts, trying to resurrect the Dark Lord with a dark item he stole from my father's study. Lupin taught us my third year. He was fired out someone revealed that he was a dark creature, a werewolf._

Harry surprisingly felt little in response that information. He was interested in the wizarding prison system though. Maybe he would have a chat with Black.

He was given a stack of reports gathered from all of the goblins working on his families' accounts. He was a bit taken aback by how much he was actually worth. The others in the room waited patiently for him to finish reading before they opened his parents' wills.

Just as the presence of his parents' friends had little effect on him, the reading of his parents wills affected him less as he originally thought they would. He felt Lady Malfoy's hand on his left thigh for support, which turned out to be superfluous. They bequeath most of their possessions, rights, and titles onto him, apologized for not being with him, professed their love of him, and wished him the best in life. Three other individuals in the room received money or such from his parents: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, who he learned was his Godfather from the wills, and Lady Alice Longbottom, in whose care he should have been given as per the wills.

_I wonder how I got left at the Dursleys then._ Draco gave him a look that seemed to read his train of thought, without Harry having spoken to him through their bond

When all was read from both wills and Marner gave him a supportive pat on the back, one goblin slid a pair of heavy signet rings across the oak table.

Harry stared at them. _I really belong to this world then_. He inhaled deeply before he slid one of the rings onto his finger, the more manly and heavy looking ring. He assumed that his wife would wear the other as his mother had.

Augusta Longbottom leaned forward and explained to him, "When a new Head of House is named, unless he has a wife, the mother dowager or the sister would wear the ring and assist in any wifely functions."

Harry turned slowly to Lady Malfoy. "As the only woman I know and trust, would you be willing to fulfill this duty in addition to your House's obligations?"

She smiled, having predicted his actions, and held out her hand. "I acc-."

"Harry! I can't let you give your mother's ring, Lily's ring, to this dark succubine. I don't know what befuddlement they have you under, but the Malfoys are dark and are only trying to use you and your position." Sirius Black barked from across the table.

Harry raised one eyebrow, quickly summoning Draco's wand as the blonde jumped up to defend his mother's honor.

"You DARE insult me in my own house, _Lord_ _Black_." She spit the last words like venom. "One would be tempting to think your mannerisms and familial love were never cultivated."

"Why you wretched wench!"

Harry used his magic to make the sound of a gun going off, startling everyone.

"I'm sorry," He smiled apologetically looking around the table. "I'm not very familiar with how things are done in the magical world, but I would prefer to discuss matters with maturity."

He turned to Lord Black and gave him a withering look. "That being said, I would happy to surgically remove anyone from this hearing for creating a hostile environment."

"Harry, you don't under-."

"Lord Black, I understand perfectly that biases in the magical world run so deep that they can have a man defile his counsin's name in her house. What you, Lord Black, must understand is that the fair Lady Malfoy has not imparted or forced any of this bias on my in all of the short time that I have known her."

Harry waved off another response from Lord Black. "I am also confident in my own ability to see manipulation and ulterior motives. And until you have become even in the slightest bit acquainted with me, please refrain from assuming the position of expert on my life, actions, or competence."

Lord Black's mouth shut with a low click.

Harry used his magic to send Draco back his wand, reminding him mentally to take a seat, and handed Lady Malfoy the ring.

"Grindclaw, please note, I, Harry James Potter, Lord of the Houses of Evans, Gaunt, and Peverell, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, bestow on to Lady Narcissa Malfoy the title of Magical Representative for the Houses of Evans, Gaunt and Peverell and the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter until I deem myself prepared to ascend to these seats in the Wizagemot."

A scribe goblin passed them the statement he had just decreed and a quill with which to sign it. He did so with a flourish.

"I, Harry James Potter, Lord of the Houses of Evans, Gaunt, and Peverell, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, bestow onto Draco Malfoy the magically honored title of Bonded Brother."

_Potter!_

_Oh shut it Malfoy. You knew it was coming._

_No such thing!_ Harry saw the genuine surprise on the boy's face.

_Oh… well, accept it so that we may move on_.

Draco, dumbstruck, cleared his throat and said, "I, Draco Lucius Malfoy of the Noble House of Malfoy accept this with my mind and magic."

Many instinctively covered their eyes, but no customary Bonding flash assaulted their eyes.

Not indulging in anyone's curiosity by explaining that he and Draco were already bonded, he moved to his last motion.

"Grindclaw, please note, I, Harry James Potter, Lord of the Houses of Evans, Gaunt, and Peverell, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, bestow on to Marner Frond all rights and privileges of Guardian in the muggle world."

Grindclaw nodded to the scribe goblin to pass Harry and Marner the contract. Once all of the documents were signed, the contracts and forms Harry had filled out simply rolled themselves up and disappeared with a small puff of smoke. _Magic._ Harry wasn't sure if he would ever get used to that

Lady Malfoy clapped her hands, summoning the house elves with refreshments and a small, but elegant snack for those present. As everyone removed themselves from the table, Harry was approached immediately by Grindclaw.

"Harry, there are many investments from your parents that you need to be debriefed on, as they have lacked organization and clear direction for years. Many of them could possibly be worth large piles of galleons."

Harry waved the goblin short. "Grindclaw, I trust you to do well with what I will ask of you. Would you be willing to be the financial manager to all of my accounts? The report you gave me earlier was composed by five different goblins. I would like to consolidate everything under one goblin's gaze to make my life a little easier and reduce the number of superfluous eyes on my money."

The goblin swayed slightly, almost falling to his knees. His comrades held him up. Harry wasn't aware that his suggestion would have such an effect on the goblin.

_You just increased his distinction within the goblin community. Honestly Potter, you read through all of my memories, yet you learn next to nothing._

Harry's head turned in Draco's direction so quickly that his neck twitched with pain. The blonde was observing him innocently from a corner with his brother and Marner.

"Lo- Harry, I graciously accept this privilege and honor!"

"Wonderful!" Harry smiled brightly at the heavily breathing goblin before he excused himself, allowing the excited goblins to converse about him no doubt, and went over to Lady Malfoy, who was speaking with a woman he did not know personally.

"Ah Harry, Dowager Longbottom and I were just discussing you." Lady Malfoy said tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

"Augusta Longbottom, Lord Potter, I knew your parents and grandparents very well. In fact, I was once your family's wizarding litigator." Harry pressed her offered hand to his lips gently and allowed for her to elaborate further. "My daughter is your godmother. She would be here today, but she is not in a condition that would allow her to."

Harry nodded understandingly as he went through Draco's memory trying to find information on the Longbottoms. Before he had the opportunity to offer his condolences, Lady Malfoy spoke on his behalf.

"Tragic, of course. Dowager Longbottom, I believe now it the appropriate time to explain your invitation to this hearing. With all of your expertise in wizarding law, and politics, I feel as if you should rethink your early retirement to assist Lord Potter for the next few years, until he is fully aware of and has fully assumed his position in our society."

Harry saw a flicker of several things flutter across the older woman's face including the likes of anger, disbelief, and suspicion. "I have been retired for sixteen year-."

"Since the birth of your grandson Neville, how is he doing nowadays?" Harry could sense the maliciousness of the conversation, but was very uncomfortable and uncertain as to how he should proceed.

At the name "Neville", Draco's memories pulled up a pudgy, jumpy-looking boy with whom Draco had Potions lessons.

"He is faring well." The older woman retorted defensively.

"Oh how wonderful." Lady Malfoy said dramatically. She glanced quickly at the clock on the mantle. "Oh dear me, why do you look at the time. I don't wish to keep you from your grandmother responsibilities. – oh silly me, I forget that Hogwarts has already started up again. My my, do tell me, what do you do with all of this free time on your hands?"

She sipped on the teacup in her hands, leaning forward slightly. "I can't imagine how much dowager responsibilities for the House of Longbottom includes!"

"I'll have you know, Lady Malfoy-." It hit Harry what Lady Malfoy was trying to do, so he thought he might help her out a bit

"Excuse me, Ladies. Might I offer a suggestion? Why don't I just use the Malfoys' litigator? Dowager Longbottom could advise from a noncommittal position."

Lady Malfoy nodded thoughtfully. "If you insist, Harry, but I must say poor Herbert has been flustered a lot lately with the Ministry trying to pin our family down as Death Eaters."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind the honor." Harry danced internally as Dowager Longbottom's face seemed to constrict. "Thank you for you time, Dowager Longbottom. Dobby, will show you to the floo." Dobby appeared before them, holding one hand out to the Dowager with his other hand holding an enormous, hideous red-feathered hat with a large stuffed vulture on top. Harry resisted the urge to shudder

The woman scoffed slightly, "That won't be necessary." Harry nodded, took the hat from Dobby and held it out to the woman himself.

There was a brief, unnoticeble exchange of victorious glances between Harry and Lady Malfoy as Dowager Longbottom hesitated before she slowly took her hat from Harry.

Harry frowned, however, as he noticed the grin on the older woman's face.

"Very good Lord Potter. Lady Malfoy had taught your well in these few days since your release, I've noticed."

Lady Malfoy's pristine and impermeable face was suddenly infiltrated and dismembered by a look of surprise.

"I would be honored to be the Potter's chief legal aid once more. I'll send my contract over for renewal in a few days." She bowed her head in respect, which Harry accidentally neglected to do in return due to shock.

She turned without a word and left the room.

"Well… it worked at least." Harry murmured.

_Potter! Remove these imbeciles from my house!_ Harry ignored the stream of obscenities the blonde had in his arsenal for Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Harry approached the three cautiously. "Draco, your mother asked if you co-."

The agitated blonde exhaled deeply in relief. "Thanks." He bowed ridiculously low to the two older wizards, who had been, if Harry's ears hadn't deceived him, discussing the immorality of Death Eaters and their misguided children.

The two men seemed nervous in his presence, giving him the confidence he needed to speak first.

"Thank you for coming. I'm sure it meant a lot to you to hear my parents' wills."

Sirius looked slightly disgusted. "They would roll in their grave if they new their possessions and their son were now in the hands of Death Eaters."

"Siri-." Remus warned.

"No, Moony, I can't have the best wizarding family I've ever known go to rubbish because a-." The man stopped, looking suddenly ashamed at what he planned to say to Harry.

"Please continue." Harry growled, his deepened, hard Sirkin voice returning. "I would love to know what a stranger thinks of me."

Sirius winced at the word. "I am no stranger! I knew your father, I am your godfather-."

"Correction. You don't know _me_, and my godfather would not have allowed me to stay in prison for seven years."

Sirius' expression darkened. "Don't tell me about prison, boy. I spent most of your life in Azkaban. Do you know what it's like th-."

Harry felt the temperature around them decrease substantially as the lights began to flicker. He felt his magic mold with his anger. The two men backed away cautiously, hands automatically reaching for the stick that they depended so strongly on.

"I do." He said simply, relishing the flinch of the older man. "I'd be happy to exchange stories with you, _Lord Black_. Isn't that was godfather and godchild do?" He asked.

Remus maneuvered himself in between the two slightly. "Harry, we did not come here to judge who you associated with," he threw a exasperated look at Sirius, who was still looking at Harry with slight trepidation, "we can to meet you, introduce ourselves, and offer our services in assimilating into the magical world. If you ever have questions about your parents, us, or anything at all, let us know." Harry could tell that the man was genuine and attempting to secure a positive stance

Harry nodded slowly. "I'll keep that in mind." He said dismissing them, but offering Remus an olive branch.

The man nodded and grabbed Lord Black. Lord Black looked as if he were not yet done with Harry but succumbed to the impatience of his companion.

As they left, Harry rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. It was too early to be dealing with such people.

He barely finished exhaling before there was a crash and a boom right behind him. He spun and dropped to the floor. Before him stood who was obviously Lord Malfoy, clutching his cane in rage.

Harry barely had a change to roll out of the way as a blue jet of light spun from the man's outreached cane and blew a gory hole though a goblin, who, appearing out of nowhere, had blocked Harry from the attack.

Harry's magic flared to life, tossing the man around the room. The other goblin's grabbed their dead comrade and fled from the room.

"You trolup! How dare you besmirch my house and my name by bringing the Dark Lord's enemies here." He sent a spell at the dumbstruck Lady Malfoy.

With surprising agility, she sidestepped his spell and sent one back at him.

"You dare break a Lordship contract by attacking a LORD in this manor," She growled in return.

Harry was suddenly helped up by Draco. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marner and Marcius slip out of the room.

"The Dark Lord will deal with you!" The man hissed at his wife. He dug his cane into a dark, skull-shaped mark on his arm.

Harry barely had time to register what he was doing before the lights went out in the room, and excruciating pain burst forth from his scar.

He barely noticed the shadows shooting from the corners in which they hid. They swirled for a moment around the now kneeling Lord Malfoy before transforming into a tall, pale being with billowing shadowy robes. Harry almost kneeled in pain.

His magic flared around him, not knowing who or what to strike to revenge the pain that Harry was currently suffering from.

"Lucius," the being hissed, "you summoned me from my rest-" Harry felt as if his forehead would split open. He groaned and sank to the ground.

Draco was immediately at his side. _The Dark Lord._

Harry felt fear unimaginable. He could taste the magic emanating from and constricting around the being he now knew as the Dark Lord. It was overpowering, proficient and definitely out-powered Harry's "pulse".

"It can't be-." The being said, turning slowly as if to find something.

"RUN! HE MUST NOT FIND YOU!" Lady Malfoy said. "Draco, use the wards, you are now the temporary Head of House!" There was a brilliant flash of light that went from Lord Malfoy to Draco.

Harry was given no time to digest the information, or the déjà vu to his dream from two nights before, as he was roughly grabbed by Draco. The ground beneath where he was previously seated exploded barely a second after he moved.

He suddenly found himself running breakneck speed down the hallway that led to his guest quarters.

Portraits on the walls cheered them on or jeered at them. Harry tried to ignore them in either case.

_I'm throwing all of the houses defenses at him! He's still catching up._

Suddenly they hit an invisible wall. His magic lashed out without hesitation. Harry saw red. He refused to let that beast cage him. The wall disappeared allowing him and Draco to continue running.

"Dobby!" Harry said as a thought flashed through his mind. He could feel the pain in his forehead returning, which could only mean that the Dark Lord neared.

The house-elf appeared before them. Harry just about kissed the little bugger as it suddenly grabbed both his and Draco's hands. They disappeared from the hallway and reappeared in Harry's chambers.

Harry summoned all of his things to him and put the shrunken materials in his pockets. Draco watched this with a raised eyebrow

"Dobby is sadly still bound to his former Master Lucius," the elf said in a panicky, squeaky voice, "Mast- Harry's room is the only one with protection."

Almost simultaneously, the door to Harry's chamber disintegrated and splinters, a green light sped towards Harry and was captured in the chest by Dobby, who jumped in order to intercept the light.

The house elf toppled to the floor and did not get back up. Harry knew he was dead immediately.

His magic threw everything it had in one strike making the Dark Lord step backwards. Harry could see the confusion in the red, slanted eyes.

Dark tendrils leapt out of the shadows at him, attempting to either restrain or harm them.

What he hoped to be sweat began to trickle down his brow and cheeks. The pain in his scar was unimaginable, and he could feel his magic starting to protest the strain.

He grabbed Draco and followed the first thought in the blond's head as the air around him became difficult to breathe.

The Dark Lord bellowed an angry "NO" as Harry's magic swept them away to what Draco called the 'Forbidden Forest.'


	11. Chapter 11

_**Welcome to the Wizarding World**_

Harry snarled in frustration as Hogwart's infamous, fusty moving staircases in once again took him to the wrong corridor. His magic flared, pulsing with his annoyance. A group of whispering teenagers in front of him jumped at the sound and moved as far away from him as the limited space on the moving staircase would allow. He sighed mentally, reigning in his magic, and prepared to apologize when he spotted the impossibly immaculate, blonde tuft of hair that could only belong to Draco Malfoy. The blonde was waiting patiently for him at the prospective landing of the moving staircase.

Harry remembered suddenly where they were headed, and the bottom of his stomach dropped slightly.

He and Draco had been at Hogwarts for a little more than two weeks, and Harry had been greeted either with complete mistrust (partially for arriving with the blond) or with utter adoration. Draco quickly reminded him of the Boy-Who-Lived legacy, and fantasy, that surrounded his name. It churned a rage in Harry against the publishers and writers who had since his birth reaped nothing but profit on his name.

If it had not been for the fact that so many students and faculty alike had come up to him on the day after his arrival asking for autographs and if he were really hunting dragons in Mongolia, he would have been happy to leave the subject alone.

_I refuse to live in the fairytale world these idiots made._ Draco, being for once very useful, used his family's connections to publicly renounce all publications written about Harry. The aftermath and on going legal battle was interesting and educative to say the least. Draco and his mother decided it to be in Harry's interest to hold the press conference that they were on their way to, to set the record straight about him and put those who made money off of him out of business.

Despite his continuous run-ins with the law, Harry had little knowledge of legal proceedings in the non-magical world or in the magical world, even with the limited access to Draco's memories. Lady Malfoy mentioned that she was seeking solatium, and Harry was happy to let her seek have her way.

With a start, he brushed past the group at the base of the stairs and jumped off as he realized the staircase had a different landing in mind and not the one where Draco was waiting for him. His pulse flared, seemingly happy to be made useful after so long. Though he kept it on alert and practiced spells out of the book with it, there had been little reason for him to use his magic.

The students on the stairs shrieked in surprise as Harry hurdled himself through the air and landed crouched with a small _thud_ next to Draco.

"Show off," the persnickety blonde sneered with crossed arms. Harry shrugged his shoulders and righted himself.

He realized that many students who were meandering through the corridors at the moment were all staring at him in awe. He rolled his eyes and followed the blond, who had taken off without another word.

_Thanks again for helping set up this interview_, Harry sent mentally. He saw the blonde's lips twitch as if he wanted to verbally reply. _Don't speak. There are too many unwanted ears_.

Harry said observing the others watching him and Draco with pure interest.

The twitch in the corner of Draco's mouth was the only outward acknowledgement of Harry's statement.

_Consider it repayment for publically accepting me as your bonded brother and restoring the honor of my family's name._ Harry snorted. _And for saving my life_, the blonde said in afterthought.

Harry did not snort there. He swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in this throat. The blonde's words cut through him like the sharpest shiv.

He had done that and more, nearly killing his blond, bonded brother. The only good thing that came out of their foray in the forest was his magic going haywire as they tried to find their way through the Forbidden Forest to the castle and nearly destroying the bond between the blonde and himself.

Harry shivered. He did not want to think of the two days that they spent fighting every dark creature they stumbled across until they reached the wards of Hogwarts. They had been so exhausted from the fighting that Harry had been deemed mentally and magically unstable enough to be Sorted for nearly a week.

The blonde's previously perfect visage was now scarred, similar to Harry's own remarkable diagonal marker, with a barely visible scratch that stretched from his pale forehead to his chin along the right side of his face. As if feeling Harry's eyes, and understanding the sudden silence following his statement, Draco unconsciously ran a finger down the pale scar.

_Sorry, I didn't mean to-_ the blonde began to apologize. The feeling of guilt that was pulsing through Harry suddenly peaked.

_Don't, you did do anything wrong._ Harry clapped his companion warmly on the back, swallowing the deep regret and sadness that filled him from the memory of his deeds in the forest.

The walked the rest of the way in silence, ignoring the stares of Draco's classmates. _My future classmates_.

Harry couldn't help the deuced twinge of excitement that flowed through him at the thought of learning magic properly. Despite the fact that, according to Draco and his memories, Harry was far ahead of the students in terms of magical stamina, he knew that even the youngest students had more practical and theoretical magical knowledge than he.

He was currently trying to remedy that by reading the books that he stole from Draco's library as well as books he found in the Hogwarts' library. It was not unusual for Draco to stumble upon Harry whispering incantations to himself and moving his new, rarely used wand as instructed in the text. He found himself learning more from the books he stole than from those he borrowed. The spells were generally more exciting, more powerful than the ones that the students were learning.

Every now and then, he felt a bit of guilt as he had yet to discuss his theft with the blonde or the vivid nightmares the followed, in which Voldemort raged about the unknown location of his personal library.

_Gods only know what he doesn't want _me_ to know_. Harry thought with an internal smile.

He made to open the door to the empty classroom where he was to be interviewed by some wizard journalists Draco's family had connections to, but Draco put his hand on the door, keeping Harry from opening it.

"What did you promise me?" He asked. Harry folded his arms and rolled his eyes impatiently. "Potter…"

"Yea yeah, I heard you." _I prefer your silence though_. The blonde's eyes narrowed dangerously. Harry shook the slight creeping sense of fear off and scratched the back of this neck. "I won't do anything."

"Potter…" Draco warned. This was the fifth or sixth time they had discussed what Harry was allowed and not allowed to do doing the press conference. Harry couldn't suppress the grin on his face.

"Fine! I promise I will let you do all of the talking unless it's specifically about my past. I will throw in a few emotions to give it more- what word did you us- flame? Flare? Whatever." Harry attempted to recite from memory.

The blonde nodded stiffly. Harry nearly laughed at the blonde's antics, but he realized that would not help his current predicament at all. He unpleasantly remembered the last time he angered the blonde at dinner in the Great Hall and had to face his wrath and wand. He had painful bumps on his bum for hours.

The blonde opened the door and Harry grimaced under the flash of several cameras. He saw spots for the entirety of the three-hour interview.

With some difficulty and much mettle, he managed to detach himself from the blonde, who stayed behind to control what the journalists were to release and give his input. Harry opted to wander around the castle and collect his thoughts. The interview had awoken some hard memories, but besides that, Harry figured it went well.

_Apart from having to punch that reporter_, he thought with a smile. The daring reporter had repeatedly insinuated and insisted that the Malfoys were negatively influencing Harry. _And he spoke out of turn_. If it weren't for Draco, Lady Malfoy, and Dumbledore, who demanded to be present for the questioning of his students, Harry might have dismembered the sniveling man.

The interview had taken a turn for the better after that altercation. The other journalists decided to be more careful as well as diplomatic with their words, knowing that they might endanger themselves otherwise.

Harry found himself alone in the halls. Everyone else was most likely in lessons. Harry admitted that he envied them slightly for having learned magic under the instruction of professors where he had to learn by trial and error in a juvenile delinquent center.

With great difficulty, he used his magic to push those thoughts aside. His sorrowful mind was suddenly cleared as the comforting pulse literally pushed the thoughts out of his head. He released a breath that he had not realized he had been holding. His head felt lighter.

Draco called it Occulmency. He had been doing it regularly since they arrived at the castle. It became a necessity with also of the headache-inflicting nuances of the Wizarding world. Everything from the dress to their expressions like "oh Merlin" or "oh Dragon dung" confused Harry. He was lucky that he wasn't forced to immediately integrate himself into the student population.

Dumbledore argued for him to immediately attend classes supposedly for integration purposes, luckily Lady Malfoy and the school nurse, whose name Harry still couldn't quite remember, campaigned for Harry's slow immersion into Hogwarts. He was supposed to attend class everyday, but which class and what level being instructed were not dictated by anyone. He was to visit and not interrupt. Luckily for Harry, Dumbledore was also forced to make an announcement telling the students to give Harry his private space after his disastrous and eventful first two days.

"Excuse me!" A brown-haired guy around his height said after Harry absentmindedly ran into him. "Watch where you are going?" The guy made to shove him, and Harry kicked his legs out from underneath him.

"I don't like being shoved." Harry admitted in a dangerous tone. The boy's eyes flew from Harry's face to his forehead impossibly fast. Harry had been experiencing that inspection by nearly everyone who got up close enough. He doubted he would ever understand why a lightening bolt-shaped scar caused some people to treat him differently, even with the explanation that Malfoy gave him.

The mousey boy cowered away from him, and Harry rolled his eyes. He noted on his periphery that many students had paused to watch the interaction with interest. _They must have_ _gotten out of classes without me noticing._

He looked at the boy at his feet. _I probably shouldn't start off on the wrong foot with the students here_. He thought with an internal sigh.

He extended his hand to the boy, who initially retracted back away from the offered help. He accepted the hand finally, and Harry pulled him to his feet. He dusted himself off.

"Sorry about that." The boy apologized. "I thought you were a Slytherin. They are always pushing me, knocking my books out of my hands, sticking dragon pus on my back – stuff like that."

Harry merely nodded, not knowing or really wanting to know what dragon pus was or what it did to one's back. He extended his hand again. "I'm Harry."

"I'm Neville, Neville Tiselius Longbottom of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom." He spoke softly and bowed his head slightly to Harry. His name and face matched the memories of Draco, and he bore a slight, but noticeable resemblance to Lady Longbottom.

"I'm sorry. I'm not very familiar with Wizarding traditions. Why do you introduce yourself to me with your full name?"

All of the Slytherins and some students from other houses he had been introduced to did had done so as well, and Harry quickly figured out why, but feigning innocence and ignorance was usually a great asset so he decided to go with it.

_Plus, this is what Dumbledore wants, for me to make friends and prove that I am an innocent, sweet boy._ Harry mentally rolled his eyes. _He has another thing coming, and he doesn't even know it._

"It is seen as an insult and could possibly fuel a blood feud between houses if a pureblood of a lower or similar house does not introduce themselves and their house to someone of superior rank or blood." _Superior, that's new_. At Harry's blank look, the boy continued with a kind smile. "You are of a superior rank, Lord Potter."

"None of this 'Lord' nonsense! Call me Harry." He said waving his hand, noting the gasps of their onlookers at his request.

"As you insist, Harry." He gave another small bow of his head. Harry wasn't sure whether he wanted to vomit at being called "Lord" or at the inferiority the boy emitted. _Wizards and their traditions, I will never understand them_.

"I must, however, depart. I was on my way to Potions when we collided." He said with a wince. Harry wasn't sure if the wince was from the fall or from the idea of going to Potions. "The professor doesn't like tardiness, or me."

"I will go with you." Harry decided and started off in the direction of the crazy staircases.

"I'm not sure if you want to do that… Professor Snape is not the most... friendly teacher here. And he hates my house, Gryffindor, and this specific period particularly."

_Good._ Harry said inwardly. He needed something to sidetrack him from his recent re-visitation of his childhood, or lack thereof.

"I'm already walking in that direction." Harry said pointing to his feet.

_Besides, I should probably visit a class or two._ He had been spending most of his free time with Draco and his friends in their common room, but when they were in class, Harry usually found an empty classroom to practice the magic from Draco's memory, exercise, read in the library, or wandered around the castle.

When Draco introduced him to the magnificent library, Harry nearly fainted. He nearly spent two days there from opening to closing. The librarian Madame Pince was practically enamored with him after he quieted a group of chattering girls while she was in the process of doing the same. _They were just too annoying_. She was over indulging, showing him spells to handle the books properly, and showing him which lighting helps by which types of books to make reading them more efficient.

Harry gave a crooked smile to a group of pretty girls they descended the stairs, sending them into a fit of giggles.

_I can get used to this._ One particularly beautiful girl caused a familiar twitch in his lower regions, reminding him of how long it had been since he had been with a woman.

Harry was drawn out of his thoughts by a disturbance. A boy tripped and fell, colliding with a professor, whom Harry could only describe as what he always pictured a vampire would look like.

"Oh no, he ran into Professor Snape, poor idiot." Neville said as they approached the classroom.

Harry had heard from the Slytherins and Draco that the man was protective of his snakes as they were generally discriminated against due to the return of the Dark Lord. It was suspected that all of the Slytherins were future followers of his. Harry rolled his eyes at the thought, but refused to lie to himself and say that he felt fully comfortable sleeping in the enemy's prospective lair

When Neville said that the Professor Snape was unpleasant, Harry realized the boy was much too generous with his words as he observed the man rip into the student in the hallway.

"Perhaps someone of better birth could please instruct Mr. Horby on how to dress himself so that he does not endanger us all by tripping over his hems?" Several students sniggered.

The man reminded Harry of some guards at Sirkins. However, instead of jumping inmates in the bathroom, Professor Snape seemed to be masterful with words and unleashed the same about of harm as a gang of angry officers with one sentence. "Detention, Mr. Hornby." The man snarled and swept into the classroom.

Harry and the rest of the students obediently followed him. _He's good._

Harry sat next to Neville in the back of the room, however they were not able to avoid the unnatural bad mood of the greasy-haired teacher.

The dark eyes swept through the class as if looking for another victim. They immediately found him as the professor turned away from the board and faced the class. "Ah. Mister Potter, our newest-."

"It's Lord Potter, thanks." Harry said clearly and calm. He felt Neville tense up beside him.

"Why you arrogant little-." The man's face contorted. _Wow, I didn't know he could get uglier._

"Excuse me. I'm an neither arrogant nor little." He paused, soaking in the incredulous stares of the others in the room. "Sir."

"You dare insult me in my own classroom! Impudent, just like your father-."

Harry gave a soft, yet dangerous laugh. His magic hummed slightly, waiting for the right moment. He saw the man's hand twitch towards his pocket. Harry had a feeling this man was not going to be able to control his temper for much longer. _Pity, I was enjoying this._

"Since I neither knew my father nor insulted you, I'm rather confused by your accusations and insults." Harry said quickly. "However, maybe we could discuss this later over a pot of tea? I'm rather interested in hear about the man-."

"SHUT UP, POTTER!" The man was suddenly standing above him.

Harry rose slowly out of his seat to match the man, eye-to-eye. "No." He said, still smiling.

"Why you insolent, spoiled little brat-." The man's face was red, and the vein in his neck pulsed dangerously. In comparison to his furious opponent, Harry looked like the epitome of peace.

He felt Neville tugging his shirt slightly. Harry ignored him for the moment.

"Seeing as I was raised in a juvenile delinquent facility, I hardly think even you could accuse me being spoiled." He laughed, his magic expanding around him and ignoring the murmurs. "However, if you would like, I can show you _personally_ why I was sent there in the first place." With his magic, he moved the desk, chairs (with a startled Neville still seated upon it) to the side, removing all obstacles between the Potions teacher and himself. The man took a step back in some mix of fury, surprise, and _was that a tinge of fear, I see_?

"Are you threatening me, _Potter_?" He spit Harry's name as if it was venom. His retreat pacified Harry enough to retract his magic, slightly.

He moved the chairs and desk back into their original place and sat down slowly next to Neville. "No, I'm patiently waiting for you to do your job and teach." His voice no longer held any essence of fake cheerfulness. "Or are you paid to banter students?"

There was a collective intact of breath in the room. Harry wanted to close his eyes and enjoy the feeling of victory.

"OUT! GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM!"

"Is this how you treat guest students, Professor? Tsk tsk. I believe I will have to let the Board of Governors know about this." Harry was suddenly very grateful to Draco for explaining to him that the staff, faculty, and headmaster had to answer to the Board of Governors, who had to answer to the Ministry. "I refuse to accept how a Lord is treated in this establishment."

Harry actually could hear the wind leaving the professor's sails. He snarled at Harry once and turned away to begin his lecture on the viscid scratch-healing potion Acanthium.

Still in shock from the interaction, no one moved to take notes. Realizing such, the batman turned on his heels and bellowed. "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? Write it down, you dunderheads!" His left eye twitched dangerously, and Harry grinned like the cat that caught the canary.

"I can't believe you did that!" Neville said still dumbstruck. Harry followed him as he headed towards the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for dinner after the lesson.

"What did he do?" Someone next to Neville asked. The mousy, brown haired boy took a deep breath and began to recount the supposedly historical exchange between the evil Snape and Lord Harry Potter, the new Prince in the shining armor.

Harry, who normally sat with Draco at the Slytherin table, liked the idea of switching it up a bit today. Since he had yet to be Sorted, he had had full freedom to sit where he pleased but had yet never indulged. He caught the blonde's eye from across the Hall. Draco frowned slightly, rolled his eyes and nodded barely noticeably.

_I hope you know what you are doing, Potter_.

_You never know when you might need _good_ people like this Longbottom_, _bonny._ Harry smirked into his golden goblet.

He, and half of the Hall, saw the blonde raise his goblet to him with a smile. _Spoken like a true Slytherin_.

Harry returned the gesture. _Spoken like someone who's done this before._ Harry did not see the need to add that he had never used anyone for malicious means and that he hoped to be a deterrent to any future spiteful mistreatment of Neville by the Slytherins.

OoOoOoOoO

Harry managed to split his following mealtimes between the two tables much to the confusion of the two Houses. Draco noted at lunch the day after his altercation with Snape that the Slytherins weren't sure whether to despise him for showing up their Head of House and for sitting at the Gryffindor table or praise him for his ballsy actions.

Harry was forced to answer questions about his altercation with Snape at both tables. As he was eating dinner at the Gryffindor table with Neville listening to yet another recount of his defeat of Snape three days following the encounter, he saw the bespoken heading towards him at a furious pace. He piled his plate with more food and waited until he felt the man's shadow descend upon him before he began cutting his chicken leisurely. The table held its breath.

"It is just me, or did someone suck the happiness out of the air?" Neville let out a cough that sounded very much like a snort of laughter to Harry.

"Potter," the man spat heatedly, opening ignoring Harry's jibe. "The headmaster would like to see you in his office."

Harry chewed and swallowed before turning slowly to the professor. "Thank you for letting me know, sir." He gave a charming smile.

The man mentally swallowed a lemon as his face contorted and his lips tightened. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if to control his temper.

"The headmaster's time should not be taken lightly." He said as if speaking with a stubborn child.

"I'm sure the headmaster would not want me to starve myself in his castle." He suddenly gestured to Neville to make room for one more on the bench, wandlessly summoned a plate and cutlery, and turned again to the professor. "Would you like to join us, Professor Snape? I'm sure no one would mind."

Harry felt an odd rush roll over the entirety of the Hall as his question lingered in air.

_What's his first name? Professor Snape's, I mean._ Harry asked Draco.

_My godfather? His full name and title is Potions Master Severus Snape of the former House of Malfoy, now of the House of Potter._ The blonde responded hesitantly. _Don't do anything stupid._

_Thanks! _Harry said, ignoring that latter part of the blonde's response. _GODFATHER? We need to talk later about this._

The professor twitched impressively for someone who was not having a nervous breakdown. "Potter, this is an order-."

Harry stood up suddenly, causing several people around him to jump back in fright. "Potions Master Severus Snape of the former House of Malfoy, now of the House of Potter, I'm sure you do not wish to publicly denounce the Lord of the House for which you have magically declared loyalty." Harry hissed, used his magic to enhance the echoing effect of his quiet words.

The man's obsidian eyes widened comically before his face returned to its normal expressionless self, with hundreds of emotions flashing across his eye. _The internal battle must be epi_c.

_You are terrible, Potter! If he refuses you, you could disown him from the family, publically disgrace him and take all of his possessions as compensation of his disownment. No man in his right mind would do so._

Harry decided to not overindulge in his victory.

"I'm sorry. I lost my temper." Harry glanced quickly at the table. "My appetite as well." The damage had, as he expected, already been done.

The man looked ready to kill. Harry simply walked away from him and out of the Hall with hundreds of eyes on his back. As he made his way up the grand staircase that connected to the hall outside of the Great Hall, he heard the swift and subtle footsteps of the Potion Masters behind him.

"You are free to walk beside me." Harry said indifferently. "You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette, would you?"

A dark chuckle halted him in his tracks. "Well played, Potter. I didn't think you had it in you. I see now why Lady Malfoy _prefers_ you."

Harry turned slightly, his stomach churning slightly. "So… no cigarette?" The man snorted, and Harry continued his ascent up the stairs with a heavy mind.

Too many questions flew through his head. _I wonder if Lady Malfoy confided in him?_ Harry mentally trussed and bound the questions together and stored them in the back of his mind for later rumination with his magic.

_Are you all right, Potter?_

_Yes, dear!_ Harry sent back sarcastically. _Enjoying the stuffy, evening air in the castle with your beloved godfather._

He heard the blonde's snicker ringing through his head, subconsciously relieving some of the pressure from his dilemma. _He's a handful, isn't he?_ The laughter continued.

Harry didn't bother to respond.

As the silent duo reached the statue that guarded Dumbledore's office, Snape gave the password "Candy Cane" with a slight twitch of aggravation.

They found Dumbledore waiting at the top of the stairs for them. Harry nodded his head slowly in respect.

"I apologize for the unorthodox greeting," The man said, shaking his massive beard. "The Sorting Hat needed his time and _peace_ to prepare for Mr. Potter's Sorting. I have been given limited amount of time in my office for the past two weeks." His irritation was almost nonexistent.

Harry felt a slight panic go through him.

_Draco, get here now. They are going to Sort me._

_I'm coming! Bloody Hell._

Harry merely raised an eyebrow in response, giving no indication of the recent bond activity or his racing heartbeat.

"We shall be joined by the other Heads of Houses, Head Boy and Head Girl-."

"As well as Draco," Harry said swiftly. "As my bonded brother, he has a right to be here."

He noticed a brief look of irritation false across both men's faces, though he supposed for different reasons.

"Naturally." The old man acquiesced, recovering quickly. Harry smiled inwardly.

He was not as surprised by the sudden Sorting as he should have been. Dumbledore had told him upon his arrival that it could possibly take until mid-year for the Sorting Hat to willingly sort another student. However, as Draco pointed out to him several times, the fact that he sat with the Slytherins openly unnerved the white wizard. Harry had often felt the man's eyes on him at meals and was beginning as if his interactions with the Slytherins were against someone's religion. It would make sense that the man would want him Sorted to force him away from the Slytherins.

The other three awaited professors showed up within minutes as predicted as well as two upperclassmen Harry did not know. Draco, a little flushed in the face, arrived moments later and assumed a particularly defensive stance between Harry and Dumbledore. Though he hid it well, Harry could see that he was out of breath.

He did not feel like asking Draco to explain himself at the moment. He had a feeling the blonde was in one of his moods with Dumbledore's obvious attempt to exclude him from Harry's Sorting.

"Now that we are complete, we may proceed I believe." Dumbledore said opening the door to his office.

_Here we go_. Harry thought willingly sharing some of his excitement with Draco.

The blonde snorted out loud attracting the attention of the others present as they entered Dumbledore's office. Harry could not refrain from punching the blonde in the arm.

Dumbledore's office was as eccentric and majestic as the man himself. Harry felt as uncomfortable as he always had in the office. It was perhaps the only place in the school that made him feel anxious and apprehensive. Draco assumed it had to do with Dumbledore's invasive magic filling every inch and nook within the room, oppressing Harry's own magic.

The two Head students immediately sat themselves upon the hardback chairs. The professors, however, conjured seats for themselves in the room. Following their example, Harry did likewise, summoning two large beanie chairs for both Draco and himself. The blonde raised an eyebrow at his green and silver bean bag chair before sitting with unnatural grace upon it. Harry sat upon his own and allowing it and the familiar magic to settle around him. His pulse throbbed happily through him.

_Damn this is comfortable! Why are you just now introducing me to this?_

Harry merely smiled at the blonde before turning to the plenum, only to see them watching the exchange with wide, interested eyes.

"That is quite impressive, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said vanishing the two unoccupied, hardback chairs with a flick of his wand.

"The hat." Harry said simply. He wanted nothing more than to leave the room.

"Mr. Potter, you will address the headmaster with respect!" Screeched a stern looking woman with black hair tied up in a tight bun. Harry cocked his head to side, analyzing her slightly. She reminded him terribly of a counselor with whom he had often had difficulty.

_Professor McGonagall, Mistress of Transfiguration_. Draco supplied.

Harry mentally voiced his thanks before replying to the woman. "Respectfully noted, professor." He said shocking even himself. "May I ask, what house you supervise?"

"Gryffindor," said responded proudly. _Gryffindor_, Draco all but growled in Harry's head at the same time.

"Also noted." He said through lips drawn into a tight smile. The woman's eyes widened in disbelief. "Professor Snape, you wouldn't happen to have that cigarette? You never responded."

Draco chocked apparently on air. _Potter, have you lost your mind? He's going to skin you and wear you as his robe!_

"I have long since given up smoking, Lord Potter." The man drawled expressionlessly. "However, I can recommend a brand that you may buy in the local magical village."

The dumbstruck and gaping expressions that followed his recommendation nearly had Harry laughing out loud. He merely nodded his head with a small smirk.

"Severus, I do not believe it is wise to support such a habit." Dumbledore admonished with a furrowed brow.

The potion's master merely raised an intimidating brow at the chastisement. "I believe Lord Potter would simply find a brand to smoke nonetheless. I would rather he smokes a healthier Wizarding brand, than a dangerous muggle one." He shrugged his shoulders gracefully.

Harry was beginning to like the man.

The stern McGonagall looked ready to breathe fire. "What a-."

"Perhaps we could proceed with the Sorting," Harry interjected cutting off any dramatic peroration. "I would rather know where I could sleep tonight away from Draco's snoring."

"I do NOT snore!" The blonde yelled, insulted. Harry merely smiled in response.

A tattered old hat was summoned and a chill went up Harry's spine as the brim opened to reveal a mouth and began to speak.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I've waited five years to Sort you."

OoOoOoOoO

Draco watched the proceedings with an expression of slight disinterest, although of all those present he might have been the most interested in where his bonded brother would go.

If there were ever a category students being "unsortable," Harry would be the most difficult one of the bunch. The previous bond had giving him a first hand account of much of Harry's life.

The black haired boy – _man_ – was slyer and manipulative than even the most ambitious Slytherins, however his caring, Hufflepuff side restricted his manipulations solely to his declared enemies or those who hurt him. His firm Ravenclaw grasp of reason and reasoning kept his Gyffindor fearlessness from becoming overbearing and dangerous to his Slytherin sense of self-preservation.

Draco vaguely recalled the memory of a court session in which Harry, as a boy, manipulated the court against his walrus of an Aunt, who he hated for abusing him by sending her dog after him as well as the many times he shielded younger inmates from the nefarious machinations of the older ones or from the guards.

As the Dumbledore beckoned Harry to come forward and put the hat on, Draco pulled himself out of his thoughts. As soon as the hat touched Harry's head, Draco felt an unimaginable tug on his magic. He sat up suddenly, his wand in his hand immediately.

Dumbledore's blue eyes sharply suddenly stared at him. Draco resisted the urge to shiver as he saw the eyes narrow slightly as if to say, "what have you done _now_?"

A pained shout from Harry drew him out of his battle of the eyes with Dumbledore. He was at the boy's side in a second, snatching the hat off of his head.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall shrieked jumping from her chair.

The hat spoke, ignoring both Draco and her. It spoke directly to Harry. "My, my, do you have strong mental defenses Mr. Potter. I don't think I've ever seen a student with such a natural precocity for Occlumency." Draco rolled his eyes slightly at Harry's embarrassed face. "However, for us to proceed with the Sorting, you must allow me into your head."

"I don't know how." Harry said bitingly, as if it pained him to admit that he could not do something.

"I'll help." Draco spoke up handing the smelly old hat back to Harry. He saw his godfather's lips twitch in what one could call a brief, genuine smile. He had of course learned the Mind Arts from his godfather since he could remember, and mastered it quite impressively much to the pride of his instructor. The man was watching the proceeding with obvious interest.

As he sat in his unnaturally comfortable chair, Harry sighed and replaced the hat on top of his head.

_Let me in, Potter_. His request was immediately accepted. Harry subconsciously relaxed in the chair.

_Look at me, Potter_. Slowly, Harry's head turned to him and he pushed slightly against Harry's abnormally strong defenses.

The defensive magic that built the walls around Harry's mind recognized Draco as a familiar presence and allowed him to instruct it.

_Pretend that the Hat is a friend of yours, whom you want to show your life to. However, remember, you can hide whatever you want from it. Though it might be smart to show it all of the more important events. It is bound by several Vows of Secrecy to protect the honor, integrity and memories of students._

Harry nodded, and Draco felt the walls easing around him. Within seconds, he felt a sticky, cloudy presence in his own mind. It was a murky, disgusting feeling to have unfamiliar magic in Harry's mind. The bond merely magnified the feeling for Harry, Draco assumed.

_Interesting, interesting._ He heard the hat say. _Such a powerful bond between two wizards is something I haven't had the honor to witness in centuries. Do not let it go to waste, explore its advantages and test its limits._

Malfoy bit back a comment he wanted to make about not being a Gryfindor as Harry answered the hat. He was much too interested in witnessing the sorting of another person to care about the Hat's unnecessary warning. His Sorting had been lightening fast with the Hat instantly placing him in Slytherin without a single comment.

_Please, place me anywhere but in Gryffindor._ Draco heard him say. _I don't think I could remain sane under that McGonagall woman._

_Yet you are noble and courageous and thirst to prevent and correct wrongdoings, a perfect match for Godric Gryffindor's house if I've seen one._ _He too overcame extreme obstacles, which only enforced his belief in sparing all innocents. This was a significant part his decision to found a school where children who grew up like himself and you, Mr. Potter, could have a safe-haven where they could build their character, hone their powers, and build a righteous and trusting community_. Draco saw Harry tense up, as if he were ready expel the hat from his mind and bring the Sorting to an abrupt halt. From the Hat's enticing and praising monologue on Gryffindor, Draco too feared that it would choose Gryffindor.

As if sensing the danger in its words, the Hat changed his tone immediately. _However, I do see the cunning, the self-preservation, the ambition that drives the students in Slytherin. Yes, I see the darkness within your magic and past. So destructive and deadly, just as the magic that flowed through Salazar in his heyday._ _Yes, Mr. Potter, I see what you did to your family, and those afterwards who tried to hurt you._

Draco could see the line layer of sheet forming on Harry's forehead. He could not image how violated the private boy felt at having his life and memories scanned and analyzed by a third party.

The hat continued as if unaware of how uncomfortable the brunette was.

_Your connection to your magic is profound and rivals that of Helga. She was not the wisest, the most cunning, nor the most daring, but she is often forgotten as having powered the strongest wards in Europe for Hogwarts and also later for the palace that houses Beauxbaton. Magic hummed around her awaiting her command as it had chosen her on Fundamental Genesis, something I believe you are familiar with._

Harry tensed again. Draco was slightly confused, having never heard specifics of Hufflepuff's power or of Fundamental Genesis. He made a mental note to discuss that with Harry as soon as they left the presence of the headmaster.

_I would dishonor her by not placing you, someone of similar magical capabilities, in her house, however your connection to Slytherin runs deeper than even your bonded knows._

This caused Draco's eyes to narrow at the brunette. He wondered what the hat was hinting at. _I wonder what Potter is hiding._

_Malfoy, you do know that I can hear your musings. _Harry said punching the blond.

"Boys." Draco looked to his godfather at the warning tone, noting for the first time that he and Potter had been locked in eye contact for the duration of the Sorting.

_Such a dilemma,_ the Hat said, _where to put you?_

For the second time in the twenty minute long Sorting, Harry spoke. _Put me somewhere where I will fight any attacks by Voldemort or Dumbledore. Both have attacked me in one form or another. I need to be able to protect myself and fight them both._

Draco nearly fell out of his seat from the open contempt he felt through their bond.

"Then it will have to be… **Slytherin**." It said officiously out loud, shocking the blonde even more. He had assumed the Hat would put Harry in Ravenclaw. _Maybe the best way to beat the Heir of Slytherin is from within his own house, _he thought to himself.

"Well, Potter. I guess we will be sharing chambers regardless of your discontentment." Draco said with a smirk, for the moment ignoring Professor McGonagall's surprisingly suspicious glance his way.

OoOoOoOoO

Harry also did not miss the looks exchanged amongst the Heads of Houses or the two other students as he removed the hat from his head and placed it back on Dumbledore's desk. Flitwick and Sprout, as Harry recalled their names to be, shared a look of disappointment. Dumbledore and McGonagall both wore long faces before McGonagall sent a look of suspicion in Draco's direction and Dumbledore joined Snape in expressionlessness.

The only person openly happy with his Sorting was Draco. If it weren't for his smirk and his upbringing, Harry guessed that the blonde would be bouncing in his seat as if Christmas had come early.

"Well, that was interesting." Harry said finally after they had sat in silence for a minute or so.

"Indeed." Dumbledore said slowly. "I believe that concludes the Sorting. It is approaching curfew, and you two should get back to your rooms." The others in the room did not miss the abrupt dismissal of Harry and Draco. "Severus, if you would please stay behind for a moment." The man who had just vanished his chair and stood waiting to follow the boys out nodded slowly.

"Of course." He said curtly sitting back down in a newly conjured chair.

Draco looked uncertain at the clock and at his impassive godfather. He looked ready to comment until Harry sent him a quick look

Harry stood up. "Thank you for arranging this so quickly and _at the last moment_, headmaster." His jibe was met with a brilliant twinkle.

"I do my best, Mr. Potter."

Harry did not bother to respond to the man. He turned and left with a polite nod to those still seated.

Draco followed his example. He waved his wand, vanishing Harry's beanie chairs. They left the office with the several sets of eyes following their every move.

It wasn't until they reached the Slytherin common room that they spoke to one another over their bond.

_They are up to something._ Draco said as they ascended the stairs to their room.

He looked over to Harry. The raven-haired boy – _man_ – stared impassively at the door to their chamber. _Then we have to be ready._


	12. Chapter 12

_**Fundamental Gneisto**_

"Dragaf the Ugly, head goblin of the Bloody Rebellion in 1254, launched an array of personal attacks against the families of the League Against Treacherous Creatures, within the newly formed Office for Creature Control circa 1222 in the Ministry of Magic. The attacks included trespassing, vandalism, and ward contamination. It was with the first burglary in 1256 that the Ministry of Magic responded with heavy taxes on…"

Harry's brain simply refused to listen to the dead professor's droning any longer. He was barely suppressing the attractive thought of going to the kitchens, his most recent discovery, and dipping his head into a large pot of hot oil.

History of Magic remained after the month since his Sorting one of his most hated classes and was competing with Defense Against the Dark Arts for the number one spot. The banshee teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts had a definite dislike for him. Draco assumed that had to do with Harry continuously pointing out the faultiness of her logic that only teaching theory would prepare them for the fight against Voldemort's forces. He received a week of detention with Snape for his comment on where she could shove her wand since she had no intention of using it in a battle. Harry assumed the latter to be the source of her scorn.

Transfiguration with the unnaturally stern McGonagall definitively was tied for the top spot. Harry still could not understand what he had done to anger the woman, but he showed his dislike of her treatment with passive aggressiveness and excellent work in her class. Next to Umbridge, McGonagall took more points away from Harry than any other professor he had classes with. Luckily for Harry, Snape and his dwarfed professor of Charms rewarded him and other Slytherins considerably for work in their classes as compensation for the dents Umbitch and McSucksonballs put in the Slytherin point hourglass.

As he dazed off his fingers fiddled with the note that he received from Headmaster Dumbledore before his Double History lesson requesting his presence in his office after dinner. Harry planned to let the old man have it, but he knew that it was futile. Narcissa was working on the Board of Governors, but, with Harry being the only student being mistreated by McGonagall and the board's refusal to respond to the case of one student, Harry was not expecting any mountains to be moved. Narcissa told him per Floo call not to attend the meeting with the headmaster as she would take care of it.

_Wow, this table is comfortable. I wonder if they charmed it._ Harry noted mentally, being lulled by Binns' voice into a wonderful slumber.

_Harry, you're salivating._ Harry jumped and knocked a book off of his desk as Draco's voice and laughter suddenly rang in his head.

"Is anything the matter, Mr. Trotter?" Professor Binns droned more insulted at being interrupted than worried about his student.

The splattered outbreak of laughter here and there in the class made Harry's face go red slightly. He quickly wiped his face.

"Not at all, Professor Bor- ah Binns. I was just so curious as to why the Ministry burned the huts of the Dragonlord clan if it was the Bloodclaw clan." Harry said with a slight yawn.

"Of course, Mr. Lotter. I believe that exact same topic interested your father as well."

Harry started at the sudden mention of his father. It wasn't the first time that a professor mentioned his father. His first interaction with Snape was the first of many. McGonagall noted his father's talent for Transfiguration often, as an example of how the apple fell far from the tree, although he was arguably already within the Top 10 of the class.

"Oh, is that so?" Harry said slightly heated, sensing a possible insult to himself and his father. "And what did my grandfather think of the Dragonlord clan- Bloodclaw clan confusion between of the Massacre of 1267? I'm sure he found it _riveting_ as well."

Draco's peal of laughter on his far right was easily identifiable from the others. As they did not need to sit next to one another in order to communicate, Draco took to sitting with his close acquaintances within his house and Harry with Neville.

_I'm so getting you back for this, Dray, mark my words._ The blonde stopped laughing immediately.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Potter, your grandfather was homeschooled by your great-grandfather, with whom I worked and researched, so I do not know exactly his views on the confusion. He surely would have been just as enthralled by this material as you and your father. Intellectual curiosity runs in your blood." The ghost said with a nod of acknowledgement. "You all would do well to learn from Mr. Potts. Ten points to Slytherin."

Harry glanced over to Draco, a few seats over, and smiled mischievously as the class gasped in unison. Binns ignored the noise and continued with his lecture.

Draco sat mouth agape.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Why is everyone shocked? It doesn't surprise me that Binns is old enough to know my great-grandfather personally."

"_No one_, not even Hermione Granger the Brain, has managed to get points from Binns in their time at Hogwarts since his death," said Neville from Harry's right pointing at the bushy haired girl a few rows over, who was furiously scribbling down the professor's lecture word for word while occasionally glaring at Harry over her shoulder. _She does know that everything he says is in the book he posthumously published right?_ He asked Draco, who shrugged noncommittally and went back to doodling.

A small grin grew on Harry's face from Neville's statement. His first accomplishment of his academic career, he couldn't wait to write Marner about it.

He looked through his eyelashes over at the Longbottom heir, his _godbrother_. It had been difficult to squeeze that fact out of the boy, and even more difficult for his House to accept the unusual union. _They still glare at us both_. According to Neville, it did not matter as the popular members of the house had deemed him an outsider since his first year.

Harry had taken it upon himself to still sit at both the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables throughout the day. This, unsurprisingly, led to apparently heated debates at the Head table as well as in the Gryffindor common, according to Neville.

No one had physically or verbally attacked Harry, so it did not matter to him. Neville also seemed rather unscratched. Draco, though slightly apprehensive and jealous of the non-bond origin of Harry's friendship with Neville, he was slowly coming to terms with it.

_Harry, can't you distract him again… My head can't take this droning anymore_. Draco moaned mentally. Harry saw him slouched over his desk in such unmannered gesture that his mother would have destroyed him.

The clock on the wall showed that there was still 25 minutes left of the course. An idea popped into Harry's head. He grinned at Draco before raising his hand.

"Although the dark Dragonlord Foulbreath, disposed of his seven brothers and father- yes, Mr. Patter?"

The class turned their attention to Harry and, those, who had been previously asleep, stirred.

"I'm just curious sir. Foulbreath did not kill his sisters or the wives of his brothers. I know this because several of them sought refuge in within this very building." He saw that many of his classmates did not know this information, due to the looks of astonishment on their faces.

"That is quite correct Mr. Platter. Five points to Slytherin." There was a rumble from the Gryffindor side of the room and a small cheer from the Slytherin side. Draco gave him a large, loud pat on the back.

"As Mr. Plotter mentioned, Foulbreath did not dispose of the female members of his clan. Only the males were destroyed. He considered the male elements of the clan to be the sole threats to his power. Many of the female fled the clan in 1321 and sought asylum here at Hogwarts. Three taught on staff, one of whom is the direct ancestor of Professor Flitwick, I believe." The ghost seemed to ponder this fact for a moment.

There was a small outburst of amazement in the classroom at the idea of goblins once teaching at Hogwarts and also that their beloved professor descended from one of them.

Harry raised his hand again, wanting to get to core of his intentions.

The mysterious book _Fundamental Gneisto_ opened to him yesterday, and, though it no longer spoke to him, it provided him with random information to which Harry now had questions. Harry spent all night reading the unabridged version of the Hogwarts Charter from 842 and its subsequent amendments, its history, long-standing dueling procedures and the ways of the Ancient and Noble families, all provided by the mysterious book.

"Yes, I do believe it was his great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother Aresidi. Ah, Mr. Otter, you are quite curious today. Yes, I believe we have time for one last question." The ghost seemed genuinely pleased.

"Would the presence of goblins on campus have anything to do with the 1325 amendment to the Hogwarts charter, that allowed for magical beings to join the faculty?" Harry pressed leaning forward. He already knew the answer but found it necessary for the ghost to answer this question before Harry could ask his final.

"Yes, it was most definitely the reason for it." The professor said energetically, unknowingly explaining his own current employment. "The amendment to allow magical beings to attend Hogwarts would, however, come much later in-."

"1443, yes." Harry answered slowly as he contemplated. "Professor, is there any reason why the founding of Hogwarts or the Hogwarts charter are not listed on any of your syllabi for the first to seventh year history curriculum?"

The class seemed to notice that sometime of importance was taken place. The class seemed to hold its breath. The very air had gone still.

The ghost professor sighed and shook his head. "In all of my years teaching, not once was this question posed by a student. It is quite unfortunate that Headmaster Dumbledore removed the Hogwarts charter from its spot on the curriculum in 1952 as he assumed his current position as Headmaster. You would have to inquire personally to learn _why_ the Headmaster deemed it necessary." He unknowingly gave a very theatrical pause before continuing. "It does my heart good to hear that students pursue extracurricular research, that will be another ten points for S-."

"But professor!" The bushy haired Granger inquired suddenly, purposely cutting the professor's point philanthropy short. She continued as if ignorant of the glares from her Slytherin classmates. "The charter is also not mentioned in _Hogwarts, A History_. Certainly the Headmaster didn't think it necessary if it was not mentioned in the book." She said with an all-knowing smirk in Harry's direction.

"Sadly, history disagrees with you, Ms. Granger," Harry said brightly. "The current reprint of _Hogwarts, A History_ is the tenth revision to the original, and the only without a full chapter covering the Charter."

"Mr. Potter, is correct." The professor said emphatically. "I know as I worked on this revision in 1955 where the chapter was scratched from the manuscript without warning by the Headmaster, who edited a final version of the manuscript. Discussions on reentering it were rendered impossible…" The normally monotone professor ended on an uncustomary, very morose note.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class and startling a few students. Though there was a rustle a moment outside the door, not one chair in the room was moved. No one stirred with conspiracy theories in that air.

"But that's preposterous! You make it sound as if information was willingly behind withheld." Granger shouted, in full disbelief. She seemed to make it a personal offense that something considered historically important was withheld from her. "It must be a lie."

The floating professor turned to Granger sternly. "Though I encourage critique on my words, work and ways, I wholeheartedly rebuke disrespect toward professors. Five points from Gryffindor. Oh and the ten points to Slytherin for Mr. Patter's extracurricular research still apply. Now hurry along to your next classes." The professor then turned and floated through the wall.

Draco looked as Harry with something akin to pride, jealousy, and mirth dancing in his eyes. "You _would_ be the first person to receive points from Binns, more than 20 points in one class, and also dethrone the mudblood from her spotless points streak!" He said loudly as everyone packed to go to their next class. Several of their Slytherin classmates also offered their congratulations.

"Now now Draco, you know my mother was muggleborn. I could take that offensive term as an insult and challenge you to a duel." Harry half-joked. He did not like derogatory terms that people did not earn themselves from misdeeds. _No one can control how they are born._

Neville gave a wave and Harry returned it as he finished packing his books.

When he looked up, Draco had a slight blush. "Sorry about that. It's a hard habit to break." They continued on to the common room ignoring the whispering and eyes that followed them.

Their exchange and Harry's history lesson remained the talk of the school for the rest of the day.

Harry took it upon himself to extend an olive branch to the bushy-haired girl at dinner, explaining to her that he did not mean to insult her intentionally or unintentionally. Before she could respond, a gangly, red-haired boy from their class year shouted from further down the table, "Oy, Potter. Why don't you hang out with the other snakes and leave the rejects of our house alone!"

Harry looked to the Head table to see the Headmaster in deep conversation with Flitwick and the stern McGonagall watching the proceedings at her table with slight disinterest, but more importantly at Harry in slight disgust.

_Is there a reason why she allows charges within her own house to be abused by fellow house members?_ Harry asked Draco.

_I don't know. Who knows what twisted logic the Gryffindors have. Weasel or Ronald Weasley of the formerly noble House of Weasley, supposedly saved the mud-ggleborn from some peril first year and his sister from something similar our second year. He's the unchallenged head of the Gryffindorks._

_A bully…_ Granger tilted her head down to avoid showing her tears. Harry felt his pulse rise just as his anger did.

Pulling a snarky page out of Snape's book, Harry addressed the table. "Hopefully, someone of _better_ birth could explain to Ronald Weasley of the formerly noble House of Weasley what happens to people who insult the honor of a Head of an Ancient and Noble Family." Harry mused loudly causing his magic to expand around him and carry his voice throughout the hall. "Similarly, perhaps someone of _authority_ could respond to the blatant interhouse bullying?" He asked looking directly at his Head of House.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for insulting your fellow housemates." Snape snarled from the Head table.

"Professor Snape! I do believe the management of my house is my responsibility." Professor McGonagall said rising indignantly from her chair.

Professor Snape refused to bat her an eye. "As per your first request Lord Potter, a letter on the Head of the Weasley house should suffice."

"You slimy snake!" Ronald Weasley growled launching himself from his seat. "How dare you belittle my family and throw your haughty lineage around! You-." Harry told Draco to start composing the letter as soon as he was free.

"Ten more points from Gryffindor for insulting a fellow student and detention for not being able to control your temper!" Harry could not have asked for more.

The look on McGonagall's face was acidic. She looked as should she wanted no more than to slap both Harry and Snape, but she resigned some of her dignity by setting back. _Doing nothing as usual_.

"Thanks." The bushy-haired girl said tearfully. "It was much worse my first year, but they left me alone as I single-handedly won the House Cup by academic merit three years in a row." She said proudly.

Harry gave her a tentative smile. He knew how hard it could be being the new kid on the block. "This is Neville," he said brightly, pointing to the sandy-haired teenager next to him who was staring at him open-mouthed.

The girl smiled at the two of them. Like a light switch, the girl turned to Harry with such seriousness that he felt his now coiled magic pulse apprehensively. "So what else do you know about the charter? I couldn't find any books on it in the library…" She said casting an accusatory glance towards the Headmaster, as if personally offended by the lack of information.

"I thought you would never ask!" Harry said beginning an hour-long monologue on the Hogwarts Charter peppered by questions from both Neville and Hermione.

As he went to the room he shared with Draco before curfew, Harry undid the wards that he erected around his trunk. He was not worried about Draco's reaction to the books, as he was sure the blonde would be amused. He was worried about the Headmaster and others who might have access to his room. Luckily, warding magic was the first magic Harry managed to pick up. Movement of the wand was unnecessary as warding magic was a derivative of runic magic, and necessitated drawing and powering runes. Harry did most of them with his fingers and blood.

He pulled out the book that made him the talk of the day and opened it slowly. He gasped.

The chapters were divided as they had been the night before. The same type topics were present, however the focus of the material had changed. Instead of holding chapters of books explaining what the Hogwarts Charter was, the origins and reasons for the traditional Wizarding dueling, and the histories and ways of the Ancient and Noble Families, the book held more detailed works on critiques on the Charter (one of which was written by Dumbledore in the 1950s), dueling styles and useful curses, and how the ways of the Ancient and Noble Families transferred to wizard politic and the Wizengamot.

Harry sighed contently, but he admitted to being troubled by the book. Did it show what he wanted to read or know? Or did it somehow know what he _needed _to know? How much of a survival guide was it?

Shaking those questions out of his head, Harry settled into his bed with the magically expanded and complied book in his hands.

Draco returned to the room unbeknown to Harry. "Why are you reading _Muggle Classics Clarified_?" The blonde asked startling Harry immensely. "You grew up in the muggle world and read tons of books, according to the memories of yours I still have access to."

Harry's eyes grew as his mind scrambled to find an answer. Draco merely rolled his eyes and began to get ready for bed.

Harry breathed a sigh of utter relief as the blonde went off to the bathroom adjacent to their bedroom.

_Of course the book would be able to hide itself_. Harry looked at the book in amazement. He wondered what would happen if he told someone about the book. _Only time will tell._

The weekend arrived and departed far too quickly in Harry's opinion. He spent most of his time learning wizard's chess from Draco or helping Neville with his pet botanical projects in the damp greenhouses. Harry learned quickly that plants with teeth have an insatiable thirst for human blood. One particularly vicious plant even gestured for Harry to come back for a second go at him.

His book was his constant companion when he was not around others. He stuck to his chamber or to the kitchens. He decided to go to the library for some change of scenery on Monday following a torturous double Transfiguration lesson with McGonagall.

"She really has it in for you, Potter." The Weasley in his grade said grinning as class was dismissed.

Harry smiled at him pleasantly. "It's because I've _killed_." There were gasps from the eavesdroppers. The redhead paled. "It's hard for someone as _noble_ as the professor to accept a person with my history."

"Y-you Dark-." Harry cut the accusation off with a wave of his hand.

"I am no such thing, churl of the formerly Noble house of Weasley. I did what I needed to survive."

"Is there a problem here, boys?" The stern voice of Professor McGonagall asked from behind Harry.

Harry turned to her and gave a dismissive and curt bow of the head. "Not at all, Professor. Enjoy the rest of your day."

Before she could respond, Harry was already halfway down the hallway. _It's time to destroy the weasel._

By the end of the last class before dinnertime, however, Harry had surprisingly put Ronald Weasley out of his mind. He gave a quick wave to Draco and Neville as he passed them in the hall but did not follow them or the rest of the students heading towards the Great Hall for dinner. He had decided to take his dinner in the kitchens with a good book, with _his_good book.

The dungeons, which the Slytherins called their abode, were scarily silent except for Harry's own footsteps. He hated the dark and the silence, both of which reminded him of his previous confinement. Harry mentioned to Marner that he had been plagued with nightmares for several days following his arrival, to which the man offered to send Harry immediately to a therapist.

_The worry wart._

Harry stopped abruptly as a chill went over him. His ears picked up a rustle of clothing and a few voices up ahead. He created one of his balls of light and had it dance in the corridor in front of him. As he crept forward apprehensively, the brief contemplation of how he would go about creating the ball of light with his wand fluttered through his head before disappearing as a small, muffled scream of anger forced him to rush forward.

"Hurry up! I wanted to get dinner when we are done with the slag." A voice said from around a corner. Harry her a muffled scream again, this time

"We should have silenced her!"

Harry bounded around the corner and felt his magic strike before his mind finished observing the disgusting scene in front of him. Two male students wearing Gryffindor colors were tossed like dolls into a wall and away from an unclothed and bound blonde girl on the floor.

Harry quickly set to taking off his robe to give to her. She shook a bit and flinched as Harry's hands touched her shoulders, albeit gently.

_Those bastards!_ He felt a sudden wind rip through the room as his magic poured out, looking for those responsible for such a horrendous act. When his restless magic did not attack anything, Harry turned and noted with angry disappointment that the two culprits had vanished.

"I know this perhaps a dumb question, but are you okay?" He withdrew his hands after his robe was more securely wrapped around her exposed body. Hers was nowhere in sight.

Her response was muffled. Harry wanted to kick himself! He did not know how to undo the enchantments that were put on her; he did not even know what they were. He decided not to ask Draco for his help with the spells as he wanted to respect the girl's privacy. His wand, being completely useless, was left in his pocket. Thinking quickly, he called up his magic to remove any foreign magic upon her person.

The girl, free of her bindings, sat up slowly. Harry gave her a bit of space and tried to calm himself down. His magic pulsed angrily inside of him and around them.

"Thank you for saving me, Harry Potter." Harry jumped at the sound of her voice. It carried a dreamily, sweet lulling effect. It reminded Harry of chimes that spoke nothing of the horrid act that nearly befell her. "I knew you would come."

Harry felt a slight chill crawl down his spine. "What do you mean?"

She tilted her pale and blonde head to the side as if confused that he did not know the answer himself. "Of course I knew. Didn't you?"

Harry forced himself to swallow his angry retort to her curious question. _What a strange girl._

"Of course. Should I take you to the hospital wing? Did they… _hurt_ you?"

Surprising him exponentially, the girl sprung up from the floor, as if she hadn't a care in the world _and as if this were a common occurrence_. He watched her pluck three wands from the corner and put two away in her – _his_ pocket. One of them she placed behind her ear as one would with a pencil.

"They did not penetrate me." Harry winced slightly at her sudden bluntness. "They never are able to since the wicklenay protect me."

Harry joined her in standing. "What are wicklenays?"

She shook her head. "Wicklenay, no 's' for plural." Before Harry could even register his mistake, she plowed on. "They are small, protective creatures. They choose a family and protect them until the family discharges them through harm or neglect." She paused as if noting something that she might have forgotten. "They might be related to the Brownies of Scotland, but no research has been done to prove that."

Harry could only nod.

She turned and made her way out of the small dark alcove. Harry tried to focus on the severity of the matter at hand, and not how comical his much larger robe looked on her. It made her look like a figure Harry had seen on the telly as child. _Some sort of dark lord in Star Wars._

After walking a few minutes with her in absolutely aggravating silence, Harry exploded. "How can you be so indifferent right now? Those bastards nearly raped you-."

She turned to him so quickly that Harry took a few steps backwards.

"_Nearly_ is the correct wording." She said slowly.

"It doesn't matter if they managed to or not, the intent was there!" Harry nearly growled.

She sighed and surprisingly took both of his larger hands into her extremely soft ones. "Both of them are of higher Pureblood birth than myself. I am neither the first nor the last to be touched by their hands. Nor will I be the only one unable to publically take action against them." She said softly.

The torches on the wall flickered as Harry struggled to grapple with the meaning behind her words and control the unknown emotions raging through him.

"Why the hell are there so many Ancient and Noble laws and procedures if you can't use any to receive simple justice?"

She shrugged. "They were created by those in power to maintain power."

"I'm going to destroy them." Harry said, and at her confused expression he continued, "I, Harry James Potter, do swear on my magic to defend the honor of-." He blinked as he blanked on her name.

"Luna Lovegood." She supplied with a smile.

"Right – I, Harry James Potter, do swear on my magic to defend the honor of Luna Lovegood. So smote it be." The magic tension around Harry was palpable as the vow – Harry wasn't sure which one exactly – was magically sealed.

He suddenly found the arms of the blonde wrapped around his torso. He was stunned to see small tears glittering in corners of her eyes.

"Thank you, Harry Potter." She said before turning swiftly away, leaving him feeling oddly cold suddenly. "You may keep the knickers in your pocket."

She retreated, looking quite majestic in his long robe.

With a deep blush, Harry confirmed the current location of her underwear to be his pocket. He turned after a few moments and continued on his way to his room, planning his revenge on Luna's behalf.

_What an odd girl._


	13. Chapter 13

_**Interventions**_

Rumors of what happened in the dungeons spread more quickly and grew more outrageous over the two days following the assaults. Depending on whichever grapevine one believed, Luna had either been bitten a ravenous Cerberus, petrified by a Basilisk, attacked by Dementors, assaulted by Professor Snape's wards, cursed by a professor or chased to exhaustion by a werewolf. Harry was surprised to note that all of those things had apparently happened to students at Hogwarts in recent years. _It's crazy that people continually let their children return_.

Once Luna's assailants _somehow_ ended up in the hospital wing, a small panic broke out. Harry had never seen so many children huddled together in groups or crying silently if they were left alone anywhere. Everyone seemed afraid of a something attacking students. It did not help that the professors seemed to be agitated and confused as well. Dumbledore's reassuring speech at breakfast that morning did the opposite of extinguishing the fears.

It also didn't help that Harry had magically vanished the mouths, genitals and limbs of the assailants with a niffy curse from Voldemort's books before he electrified them. It took an additional three days before Harry's name was mentioned as a possible assailant. Apparently, friends of the attackers visited them after their mouths had been regrown.

Harry was currently being verbally confronted at breakfast by a group of furious Gryffindors, who demanded that he be made to pay for sending two of their own to the hospital wing.

Harry merely tuned out their angry ramblings. He was used to such provocation at Sirkin. He barely batted an eye at them while buttering his toast, naturally only infuriating them more. It was the silver-haired Luna who saved _him_ this time, in her own unique and unorthodox way.

As the group hovered angrily at the Slytherin table, she promptly and silently maneuvered her way through them and plopped into the seat next to Harry.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you." She said, pointing absently to the toast Harry was about to eat. "It only makes the wrackspurts more confused."

Draco, who sat at Harry's side, grimaced at her presence. "And what are wrackspurts, Lovegood?" He bit out her last name as if it were a curse.

"Oh, they are invisible little creatures who float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy." She said as if discussing the weather. "I've noticed that there is a rather large gathering here. You would do well not to confuse them more."

Harry blinked, not at all surprised by the odd observation. After discussing what he had encountered in the dungeons and what retribution had been made with Draco in the Slytherin common room yesterday, the blond loudly mentioned the girl's name, and everyone present felt inclined to share their opinion of the girl's sanity, or lack thereof. Based on their rather bias and extreme opinions, Harry decided that he liked the rather eccentric girl even more.

He quickly came to resent her widely used nickname "Looney" and made it clearly known that the girl was under the protection of the House of Potter along with Hermione and Neville, who Harry had spoken to the day after the attack.

He was not, however prepared for the goblets of pumpkin juice that she nonchalantly enchanted to drench him, Draco and the group of Gryffindors standing behind them ("pumpkin juice keeps the wrackspurts calm").

As many around them in the Great Hall snickered, Harry gave a rather hearty belly laugh, as he figured out that she was merely distracting the Gryffindors without openly attacking them. The tension in the hall lessened considerably as the disgruntled group departed, discourage and dowsed in the sticky juice.

"Luna, you are brilliant." He whispered gratefully, his magic removing the substance from his person.

The girl merely smiled and ate her porridge. Draco stared at the two of them dumbfounded until Harry told him what believed she had done through their bond. Draco was still upset about the juice that previously covered his tailored robes.

During his free double period following breakfast, Harry considered going back to his room and flipping through his potions textbook in preparation for the tricky Pepper-Up Potion. Draco's memories had some prior knowledge of the potion, as Professor Snape had given him extra tutelage in Potions every summer since he was a child, but the knowledge only covered the rudimentary level of brewing the potion. Harry wanted to brew a rather excellent sample and considered asking the potions-savvy blonde through their bond for some tips, but decided to test his luck with his special book instead.

He was sure that the blond would not be in the mood to help him regardless. Draco had grumbled under his breath for the rest of breakfast and finally excused himself to gather his supplies for Ancient Runes. The blond really did not know how to respond to the girl's methods.

After finding a rather comfortable spot in the rather empty library, he opened the book. To his amusement, the first section showed exactly what he wanted: _The Ins and Outs of the Cauldron_: _Tips for Potion Mastery by Praestius Fusil_.

Harry wanted to jump for joy, and released a breath he did not know he had been holding. He had figured out the book.

It did offer want he needed and wanted to know, sometimes even if he did not yet know he needed or would want to know something.

The tips on potionery concisely covered the three important phases of brewing: choosing the right ingredients, the preparation, and the brewing. He learned by comparing that which Draco had learned from his godfather that the book followed a more creative approach to brewing than the rigid form that Professor Snape adhered to. If one shredded pixy wings, rather than dicing them as the instructions for the Pepper-Up Potion generally asked, the potion would have the same consistency and would be slightly stronger than the normal potion but would take a bit longer to brew.

Harry quickly took out a notepad and made a list of deviations and their effects. _This will be an interesting lesson!_

As he finished notating the best way to cut Ashwinder spleen and made to close the book, he noticed the book title for the next section.

His gasp echoed loudly around him. _Magiks Darkest by unknown_.

The book was referenced in most, if not all, of the dark books that Harry had stolen from Voldemort. He bit his lip. The clock on the wall by the entrance to the library showed that he had less than thirty minutes left before the bell rang. _Will _Magiks Darkest _remain in the book if I don't read it now?_

He did not want to take the chance at reading what was perhaps the fundamental text in Dark Magik. _And there has to be a reason for it to appear now of all times!_

After a moment of hesitation, he decided to test the sentiency of the book.

"What do you want to show me?" He whispered uncertainly. "What is the most important information for me to know?"

For a few moments, the only sounds that Harry heard were the occasion rustle of a nearby reader and his own breathing.

Just as he decided to give up, the book began to glow. The pages suddenly turned on their own accord.

Harry read the first sentence of the chapter and was hooked. _"Horcruxes are among the vilest, dangerous and difficult magikal creations known to man…_"

He barely made it to Potions before the final bell rung. _Why in bloody hell do I need to know that?_

Despite his intention to create a potent and excellent potion, he settled on following the instructions on the board and in their book mechanically. Harry's mind wandered elsewhere during the entire lesson.

_Who would want to split their soul?_

The book described the process of creating a Horcrux as fatally painful and risky. One false inflection of a syllable could instantly kill the practitioner, or lead to a catastrophic explosion. A powerful Russian mage apparently attempted to create a Horcrux during a ritual in 1908 and caused a large explosion above the Podkamennaya Tunguska River, in Russia. That was the last recorded attempt at Ritual of Immortality.

_Then there's the whole sacrifice of a pure, human soul bit_. Harry had nearly thrown up as the book went into detailed suggestions as to how to kill the victim in order to render the soul accessible for the ritual to work.

The sheer number of questions that flew through his mind was numbing. He was so distracted that he nearly poked Draco with his potion's knife, which was covered in Ashwinder bits.

"Pay attention, Potter!" Snape murmured leaning over a cauldron behind them. Harry rolled his eyes as Draco jumped at the sudden suggestion, noticing the knife that was dangerously close to giving him a painful five-day rash.

The opening of the classroom door caused everyone to pause. The stern faced McGonagall stood in the doorway.

"Professor Snape," she said in her brisk, _bitchy _tone. "Headmaster Dumbledore requests Mister Potter's presence immediately."

Snape barely nodded an acknowledgment before he continued hovering over cauldrons that were emitting weird smells or hissing dangerously. Many of the other students began whispering to each other.

The last thing Harry wanted to do was go anywhere with the woman who seemed to want nothing more than his head. It was obvious that she was there to take him to his judgment for allegedly attacking her students.

"Is it not customary for the Head of House to accompany a student to such a _hearing_?" Draco drawled from beside Harry, clearly on the same page of thought.

Were it not for a bit of quick thinking from his Head of House, he was sure that the woman would have expelled Draco then and there.

"As I am in the middle of teaching a class with volatile elements," He gave the red-headed Gryffindor (a Ronald Weasley) a look of pure detest, one which was returned fully, "it would be irresponsible for me to leave abruptly. I will join you momentarily."

Harry stilled uncertainly. His mind flew through several ways of escaping the situation.

"You _will_ come with me to the Headmaster's Office," she growled, reading his face. Many of the students in the class began to speak more loudly at the unusual coldness of the Headmistress. She gestured angrily to Professor Snape. "He will not get away with attacking two of my students!"

Harry calmly gathered his things. "I request the presence of my guardians and Luna Lovegood to confirm the attack against her." He conveyed the message to Draco mentally to contact both Marner and Lady Malfoy as soon as he could. He had a feeling that his request would not be met.

The woman seemed taken aback for a moment.

"Mr. Roberts and Mr. Vanes did not mention Ms. Lovegood having a part in this."

_Of course they didn't, but I definitely left it in the report I sent you._

Harry bit the inside of his lip as he considered how much he should disclose in such a public setting. "It's not surprising since revealing that they, two nearly adult men, attacked a 14 year-old girl in the dungeons couldn't possible leave them in a good light."

The stern woman narrowed her eyes at him, assessing the truthfulness of his statements, while he crossed the room to meet her and left the classroom. He didn't need to think of an escape when he had a good action plan forming in his mind.

The walk to the Headmaster's office was long and allowed Harry to build up his plan. As a thought suddenly came to him, he stopped and turned to the professor. "Professor, did you expect me to be a member of your house when I arrived?"

A look a complete surprise flashed across the woman's face before she answered surly. "Mr. Potter, I don't see how that is of any importance here."

"It does, however, answer my questions on why you are so unfair to me." He said looking away from her. "It does not, however, explain why you as Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor have done nothing to assist students like Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, and Luna Lovegood, who are all ridiculed and isolated within their own houses."

Her sharp intake of breath at his blunt description of her ineptitudes drew Harry's attention back to the red-faced professor.

"I will have you know, Mr. Potter, that I care for all of the students here-."

"Except the Slytherins." Harry interjected calmly.

"Ten points for your disrespect of a professor and a week of detention!" She growled.

_I just used Snape's office to Floo my mother and brother. They said they will meet you in Dumbles' office. His Floo isn't allowing anyone access for some reason._ Draco's voice filled his head.

_Thanks blondie! You're awesome!_

A mental sigh was all the answer he received to the blonde's new nickname.

He turned his attention back to Professor McGonagall, who appeared unsettled by his indifference to her punishment.

"I accept the point deduction and the detention." He said with a small smile. "I do hope, however, that you will take my words into consideration. I was obliged to place all three of them within the protection of my House."

The implications of Harry being legally allowed to take any action physical or legal to protect the three students dawned on her. Both Neville and Hermione had accepted the proposition immediately, and reported having fewer issues in their house since then.

A slightly nagging feeling encouraged him make the decision to reveal the magnitude of the situation at hand. "Luna was sexually assaulted by your students." Her shriek of outrage spurred Harry on; he assumed she had not believed the report he sent to her. "Had I not arrived when I did, or incapacitated them…" He let the implication speak for itself.

The rest of the walk to the Headmaster's Office went by much more quickly than Harry expected. As they reached the gargoyle that guarded the spiral staircase, the professor extended a hand blocking halting his steps.

"I will get to the bottom of this Potter," she said with fierce eyes. "If it turns out that you have not been truthful, I will take this matter up with the Board of Governors and personally petition for your expulsion."

Harry was not in the least surprised by her statement. "I accept that. Despite having told the truth, I think I would be more comfortable at another learning institution. The Astraia Akadimía in Greece offers more in-depth, modernised and intensive courses at a more reasonable price." He smiled victoriously as the woman paled and reddened at the insinuation that Hogwarts lagged behind its peers.

"Indeed." She then gave the password to the statues ("Cauldron Cakes") and led Harry up to two majestic doors.

Harry could hear a rather heated discussion take place inside and wondered who all were present for his impromptu meeting with the headmaster.

"Come in," called the headmaster. Professor McGonagall pushed open the doors.

Harry, who had been expecting a rather eccentric office to match the eccentric man's personality, was not disappointed. His research on Dumbledore, however, indicated that the man's Hogwarts office was considered his main seat of power. He held offices in several other locations, but many of those, one critic noted, were used to intimidate foreign political enemies, not to impress school children and their parents.

The office had a comfortable, inviting atmosphere. At least a hundred portraits of headmasters past hung on the walls, silently observing and conversing with one another. Silver trinkets that rattled, emitted small puffs of smoke were arranged on small tables, and rows and rows of books lined the walls. On a slightly raised platform at the end of the room, a large gem-embedded stand stood imperiously next to the man's rather large desk with a large fireplace concluding the picture.

Harry snorted mentally. The man probably did impress the lucky and unlucky students, who ended up in his office. Harry merely rolled his eyes.

"Ah Harry, my boy!" The old man said cheerfully. "I'm happy that you made it."

A witty response on the abrupt summons almost flew from Harry's lips, when he noticed the black-haired man leaning causally on the desk.

"Headmaster. Lord Black." He acknowledged, smiling inwardly at the man's flinch.

"Please call me Sirius, Harry." He took a step in Harry's direction. "I-."

"It is customary for non-affiliated parties," he received another flinch, "to be present for such private matters?" He thanked Draco's parents for teaching the blond eloquence. He was not sure he would he been able to phrase what he wanted to say so exactly and politely.

The headmaster frowned slightly, as if disturbed by Harry's cold shouldering.

"We decided that such a serious manner should involve an adult to represent all parties." He said a grandfatherly way that had the hairs bristling all of Harry's body.

"I see." Harry said slowly. "Then I guess I should wait until Lady Malfoy arrives. I will wait outside."

He briefly saw the look of disbelief that passed from McGonagall to Dumbledore before he turned and slowly made his way to the door.

"I'm telling you, Albus. That wench has him bewitched to dislike us. Why else would be not be interested in talking to me and you."

"Sirius, please!" The elderly wizard stated firmly. "The boy is-."

"No, Albus. You fix this. The muggles pushed him, you isolated him, and now that blonde tramp is bewitching-."

Harry turned at the door with a loud swish of robe (_Ah, so that's how Snape does that. The hands have to be in the pockets_).

"Headmaster, I'm not sure where you've been receiving your information, but I have not been 'boy' for nearly a decade. When my _relatives_ met their end, and I took care of those who insinuated the same, my 'boyhood' days ended. Please, take note of that."

"MR. POTTER!" The banshee screamed from where he left her in the middle of the room. "You WILL respect the Headmaster! How DA-."

"As for my association with Lady Malfoy," Harry continued in a dangerously low and piercing voice, "she was and remains the only adult in your world who did not ignore me, infantilise me, or attack me upon sight." All of the adults in the room paled. "For that and many other reasons, I am grateful to have her assistance."

"Thank you for your support, Harry!" Lady Malfoy said striding into the room with a grace that only she could manage. "Headmaster, how do you justify having a judicial hearing without inviting legal guardians and appropriate Head of House?"

Dumbledore stood slowly, staring down his rather long nose at the woman. "Lady Malfoy, a pleasure as always." Harry didn't need Draco's political training to hear the sarcasm in those words.

"Surely, but that is unfortunately not an adequate answer to my question." She tutted. "Luckily I was able to arrange for the appropriate people to be here, despite the lack of official summons by owl or procedural fire calls."

Loud footsteps echoed from the spiraling staircase. Harry watched in astonishment as nearly a dozen people and one goblin entered the room. Lady Longbottom and Draco leading the way, whispering to one another, looking determined and upset.

He saw the Headmaster pale at the rather large audience. He opened his arms and welcomed everyone to his office, though the warm smile did not quite meet his ears.

"HARRY!" Two strong arms suddenly embraced Harry.

Harry turned and was promptly hugged again by a very healthy-looking, energetic Marner. Something deep inside of him quivered happily to see a familiar face. He hugged the man back with equal force.

"Marner! What are you doing here?" He nodded his greetings to Marcius Malfoy, who stood at a respectable distance to the reunion.

"Harry, you won't believe how many times I've tried to contact you by bird ("owl", Marcius corrected with a grin), whatever. I'm sure that there's some sort of force field that keeps returning our letters." He gave Harry one last squeeze before ruffling his hair.

Harry then found himself attacked by Luna's arms for a few seconds. She garnered a few queer looks before she began wandering around looking at the room.

"For someone who has been only recently introduced to our world, that was very accurately put," said a woman with a monocle in official-looking, purple robes, who Harry did not know and could not identify. "Headmaster Dumbledore, there are some rather grievous allegations processed this morning in the DMLE."

The elderly man suddenly looked his years. Speaking in a voice that clearly showed disapproval, the Headmaster smiled and conjured plush chairs for all of the visitors.

"I hope I can be helpful with your investigation."

The official-looking woman's lips twitched. "I should hope so. They are charges against you." She gestured to a black man in similar robes who pulled out a rather long piece of parchment. The headmaster's face fell.

"The charges against Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore are as follows: two charges of interfering in House of Potter/Malfoy relations; three charges of inhibiting contact between guardians and their charges, seven charges of interfering with Goblin Business with the Head of the House of Potter/Malfoy; two counts of sequestering a Head of House against his will; three cases of interfering with on-going DMLE investigations. Your hearing will be tomorrow at noon before the Wizengamot." He handed the headmaster the parchment, which flashed gold when it entered his hands.

"I see." The headmaster stroked his rather long beard. "Ingenious really. But since most of these charges take a business day of processing-."

"I filed most of them yesterday at the urging of my son. You might have blocked the owl posts, but Malfoy Family magic always allows for alternative methods of communication between mother and child," Lady Malfoy said brightly. The pale wizard nodded.

_You never told me that!_ Harry said to Draco.

_I wanted to surprise you. I'm happy that you didn't catch on. There is a reason why I never mentioned the missing post over the past weet._ Harry could only nod.

"I filed a charge this morning," Lady Longbottom said curtly, "one charge of denying a Litigator access to their client. If I remember correctly, it was you, Albus, who propositioned for that amendment to the Wizengamot Charter of Rights."

Harry made a mental note to read said document and to never cross Lady Longbottom. Draco nodded at him in agreement.

"Lord Potter." The goblin Grindclaw approached him swiftly. Harry smiled and kneeled to shake the goblin's hand. Several wizards gasped behind him, some in disgust. Harry ignored their ignorance.

"Grindclaw. Magik's blessings to you!" He smiled. It occurred to him that the goblin was wearing each of his Houses' crests upon his rather officious suit. Harry decided that he would take some time in the summer to look into his Family matters more deeply. "And please call me Harry."

"Magik's blessing to you as well, Lo-Harry." The grim goblin smiled, a rather scary sight. He handed Harry a stack of documents and letters. "There were the past correspondences that were sent to you and returned unopened, a summary of your accounts as well as pertinent documents pertaining to your estates and clarifications from me." He turned to throw a rather nasty look at Lord Black and Dumbledore.

"Apparently, _someone_ bribed my secretary to not inform me of the matter. His fate has been decided internally, and mark my words, we shall get to he bottom of this debacle." Harry realized then why Goblins were considered some of the dangerous beings as well as the most appropriate beings to handle financial matters, thorough but ruthless.

"I thank you, Grindclaw, for your thoroughness. May our coffers overwhelm our enemies." Harry said, beginning to feel the pain in his kneecap and the strain on his leg muscles.

The atmosphere changed dramatically at his small but significant change in the Old Blessing from "your" to "our". The Goblin and everyone else present understood the indication that the Goblin and Lord of two Ancient and Noble Houses were working together not one for the other but mutally.

The brightness of the Goblin's eyes increased and he shook Harry's energetically. "May my service to the House of Potter strike fear and terror in the hearts and vaults of our enemies." He turned and, after a brief gesture to Professor Flitwick, who had arrived with Luna, he departed.

"That was beautiful, my boy!" The headmaster said. "It warms my heart to see such cordial Goblin-Wizard relations."

Harry shrunk the paperwork and placed it in his pocket. He was going to be in for a long night.

"Indeed, Headmaster? Maybe if more recognized and highly-regarded wizards took it upon themselves to show the Goblins more respect, Goblin-Wizard relations perhaps would not suffer as they do." Harry said with an accusing glare. "And once more, Headmaster Dumbledore. I am not your "boy". You might have controlled many events in my life, as one would a chess piece, but you have not earn the right to speak to me in a familiar manner."

"Ten points from Slytherin! You will respect the Headmaster." McGonagall all but growled.

"I do respect his positions," Harry said softly, "however, he had not earned my respect. Quite the opposite in fact."

As the woman opened her mouth to remove more points from Slytherin, the tiny Professor Flitwick intervened angrily. "Minerva, enough! Your qualms with Mr. Potter's Sorting have gone too far. I refuse to see a Head of House and a Headmistress stoop to such a low level of professionalism merely because she did not get son of her best and brightest students in her House."

The old cat looked as though he had struck her physically. The officious woman with the monocle withdrew a new piece of parchment from her pocket and continued taking notes. Apparently she and the other two wizards with her had been taking notes the entire time.

The headmaster watched with a benign twinkle as his frustrated college angrily aired his administrations ineptitudes. "Filius, is that perhaps a bit harsh? Minerva ha-."

"No, Albus. I've watched patiently for took long. Severus has out of control for over ten years with the House Point System. This year has seen an increase in bullying that neither you nor Minerva seems to care to address. Minvera had taken it upon herself to single out and bully a student as well." He shook his head in disappointed. "This cannot continue. I will be filing a report with the Board of Governors and will include the recent case."

"Perhaps this would be a good time to address the most recent, most grievous case," the woman with the monocle stated, punctuating some notes she had taken with a flourish. "I assume that all of the accused and their Heads of House are present."

"No, madame." She turned to Harry, examining him briefly. "I was denied both my Head of House and guardian's presence by Headmaster Dumbledore and Headmistress McGonagall."

She nodded, notated something and turned to one of her colleges. "I'm assuming that Mr. Potter is in Slytherin House and that Potions Master Snape is currently in class, please tell him his presence and a vial of Veritaserum are requested, and that you will monitor his class until he returns." The man nodded and quickly left.

_She's definitely a woman in power._ Harry said to Draco.

_There are few women in high position in the Ministry. Madame Bones is currently the highest ranking over of the most overwhelmingly patriarchal departments, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement_.

Harry nodded in thanks for the information before turning back to the matter at hand. He looked at Luna, silently asking for her permission to openly discuss the issue, to which she nodded in acceptance and began admiring a silver trinket on a nearby table.

"Madam, I would like to officially give my account of the attempted rape of Luna Lovegood. Would the potion or an oath be recommended?"

The woman's monocle nearly fell out. "RAPE?" She stormed up to Headmaster Dumbledore's desk angrily. "Where were you going to inform the DMLE, Albus? In your yearly report!?"

"These were mere rumors and allegation until yesterday evening." He said trying to placate the fuming woman. "I had no-."

"My sources tell me otherwise." Lady Longbottom interrupted primly. She removed a bit of parchment from her pocket. "My grandson, friend of Lord Potter's, wrote me but four days ago concerning the attempted rape. He states that Lord Potter filed an official report to both the Headmistress and Headmaster with Neville present as he sent the owls."

"I never received an owl from the boy!" Professor McGonagall declared. Professor Flitwick hissed at her angrily.

"Are you calling my grandson, Heir of the House of Longbottom, the son of Alice and Frank Longbottom a liar, _Minny_?" The prim woman spat.

The black-haired woman backpedaled unsuccessfully. "I meant, I never receiv-." She chocked slightly as understanding flashed across her eyes and turned to face the headmaster, furious. "You redirected my mail as well!"

"There were no signs of rape. Ms. Lovegood spent the night in the Hospital Wing and Madame Pomfrey was not able to determine any signs of assault." Headmaster said quite evenly to an audience stricken with disbelief. "I decided it was not worth ruining the lives the youngsters because of a simple episode of roughhousing."

Even Harry was dumb-stuck. "What century do you live in?" Harry asked abruptly. "Since when was an attempted rape the same as roughhousing? Or is that logic only meant for Gryffindor perpetrators?"

"Gryfindors? I thought Harry was the rapist?" Lord Black sputtered, interrupting the disgusted silence that reigned in the office.

"No, Harry was my savior." Luna said airily, picking up the sleeping Sorting Hat. Harry could only say, "What?"

Lord Black's eyes widened, realising that girl who greeted Harry with a huge was the victim of the attempted sexual assault. He turned to the headmaster, sputtering in rage. "Albus, you had me believe that Harry was responsible for the-. You. I thought that the Malfoys and Slytherins were influencing him to beat up and take advantage of young girls. You told me my presence was needed to bring him 'back on track'. You-. I-." He shook his head as the headmaster began to give an excuse.

The man did not wait for a response. He throw grabbed some Floo power and disappeared from the office.

The rather abrupt department was followed by the arrival of Professor Snape with a vial of clear potion, and the two assailants trailing behind him. They paled at the sight of Madame Bones, the Aurors, Harry and Luna.

"Since I am already late, I took it upon to bring retrieve the other two students at the center of this _issue_." Snape drawled. He gave Lady Malfoy, Lady Longbottom and Madame Bones a nod of greeting before handing over the vial to the black man in what Harry assumed were Auror official robes.

Headmaster Dumbledore's last attempt to interfere with the proceedings was rendered futile with one strong look from Madame Bones.

With Professor Snape, Marner and Lady Malfoy's given consent for the use of Veritaserum and Lady Longbottom proofing of the questions, Harry's part in the brief interrogation was over fairly quickly. He sat between Marner and Lady Malfoy in the chairs that the headmaster conjured and listened as the two assailants protest the use of the truth serum.

"I give permission." McGonagall said suddenly and quietly. "You two have brought shame over our House and over Hogwarts. I wash my hands of you."

Dumbledore sighed loudly at the statement, gaining a glare for most of the rooms occupants (and some of the portraits, which Draco pointed out to Harry over their bond). He gave a motion with his hand to signify his permission.

"We need verbal consent from you, Albus." Madame Bones said, rolling her eyes

Harry could barely restrain his rage as the two boys, one right after the other, confessed under influence of the truth serum that they felt well within their rights as pureblooded males to take advantage of Luna. They both expressed their hatred of Harry ("half-blood bastard") for claiming the "pretty" girl under his House's protection and for acting in her honor.

During the questioning, Flitwick had whispered small words of encouragement to Luna, who had understandably gone paler than usual. Harry knew he would be returning her hug fully when all of this was over.

Luna shyly offered to give a statement as well, but Madame Bones decided that it would not be necessary as she had enough evidence to expel them. Both boys began crying immediately.

As the two both were given the antidote, Madame Bones waved her waved at them. Magical handcuffs made of light manifested, and the black Auror created a link from his wand to the handcuffs. "Albus, I'm assuming that your Floo will allow us passage now?"

A bit of red tinged the man's cheeks, "It was precaution during dangerous times, Amelia, I assure you." He waved his wand at the fireplace. The woman snorted.

"Lord Black had no problems with it, but every single individual who made the trek up to this office commented on being blocked. I don't see the logic in barring the Director of the DMLE and Augusta Longbottom from your Floo."

"Unless, there was something that needed to be hidden." Lady Longbottom said roughly. "I will be at your hearing tomorrow. Do not think for a second that Floo barring and Owl redirection won't be included in the charges. I expect those changes to be made and will have Lord Potter sent an owl every night with the magical signature from random acquaintances of mine to ensure he is getting his mail, if I must."

She removed a rather large and hideous hat from her pocket and made her way to the Floo.

"That will not be necessary, Augusta." The headmaster said weary.

The woman ignored him and exchanged words quickly with Madame Bones and Lady Malfoy before turning to Harry. "I officially offer thanks on behalf of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom for renewing your House Protection, Lord Potter."

"It was my pleasure." Harry smiled uncertainly as she left. _Renewing?_

_Yes, I forgot to mention that to you._ _I recently looked up House Alliances and saw that the Potter and Longbottom Houses have often offered one another House Protection when they did not have any children to secure their longstanding alliance through marriage_. Draco said. _I'll share the book with you when Greenegrass gives it back to me. She's trying to find a loophole to void her marriage contract to Nott._

Harry shook his head. He would never understand the pureblood ways no matter how much information he had on them. A hand on his shoulder distracted him from the emotional scene that two cowards were trying to cause.

Marner looked at him with serious eyes. "Hey, you might want to reign in your magic aura stuff. I'm getting tingly all over, and not in a good way."

Harry did just that. He had not noticed his magic rising to the surface over the course of the interrogation.

As the black Auror, Kingsley snapped the wands the two boys, the portraits on the walls applauded loudly. Madame Bones and Professor Flitwick were arguing in whispered tones with the headmaster. After Kingsley entered the Floo with the two at wand-point, McGonagall approached Harry slowly.

Harry waited patiently for the apology that was bound to come, but he was beginning to get a bit drained and hungry.

She gave a deep sigh. "Mr. Potter, I apologize for my actions towards you. I-. My actions toward you have not been professional in the least."

_Damn right_. Draco growled over their bond.

Harry nodded, not really accepting or rejecting her apology. "Regardless, professor, I hope that the issues that I've been confronted constantly with since my arrival will cease."

"Ms. Lovegood and the House of Lovegood would have no claim to retribution or compensation due to the laws of the Wizengamot, if you hadn't placed her under the protection of the House of Potter-." She saw the look of exasperation that began to grow on his face. "All of which I am sure you somehow know."

"Professor?" Harry asked as she seemed to lose concentration on the monologue she started and began to stare off into the empty corridor.

She started. "My apologies Mr. Potter. This is not the first case of injustice that I've encountered during my many years of tenure here and mostly likely will not be the last."

"I will do everything in my power to protect her and her integrity." Harry said meaning every word. His own experiences flashing unceremoniously before his eyes subconsciously triggered his magic, which swirled around him like a protective lioness. "I do not take kindly to assault or abuse of any kind, and I will cut down those who attack the innocent or those within my protection."

Her eyes softened slightly. "Were things really that bad for Ms. Granger and Mr. Longbottom?" A nod from Harry caused her to sigh. "I must call a House meeting for tonight, excuse me."

Harry's stomach growled loudly as Draco and Lady Malfoy ended their small discussion and approached him.

"I think we can all use a bit of refreshment. Lunch at Three Broomsticks Inn?" Lady Malfoy suggested.

"That works marvelously. Marner and I have something we want to discuss with Draco and Harry, and the Inn's private rooms are practically spy-proof with a few extra charms." Marcius replied.

"We've been on the move for a while trying to figure some things out." Marner answered Harry's curious look mystifyingly. "Careful," he said as Harry opened his mouth to ask a question. "The walls have ears." He looked over at the nearby portraits, who were all feigning, badly, sleep.

The group decided not to disturb Madame Bones and Professor Flitwick as they apparently gave the headmaster a double dressing down.

Harry and Draco's curiosity grew as the seconds ticked by. As they reached the Inn and were led to empty, spacious room (Lady Malfoy went to order lunch for them), Marner casted a quick spell with his wand, surprising the two. They had been under the impression that his wand had been taken and lost before his detainment.

They shared a look between them, one that did not need to be translated over the bond. Something big was going on.

Marner looked to Marcius for confirmation that they could not be overheard. "What do you two know about Horcruxes?"

Harry promptly choked on air.


	14. Update

This is not a chapter, rather an update.

Some reviewers have mentioned formatting issues (all of my single line breaks suddenly disappearing). They have been taken care of. Please feel free to let me know if you all spot anything else!


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